


Kinktober 2018 : Kamari333 Edition

by Kamari333



Category: Undertail - Fandom
Genre: Aftercare, Against the Wall - Freeform, Anal Fisting, Angry Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Asphyxiation, BDSM, Bathtub Sex, Begging, Biting, Blood, Blood and Gore, Body Dysphoria, Body Worship, Bondage, Bonds (Telepathic or Empathic), Boot Worship, Breast Worship, Bukkake, Cock Warming, Cock Worship, Collars, Creampie, Crossdressing, Dacryphilia, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Distant/Distracted sex, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Empathy, Exhibitionism, F/F, Fellatio, Fisting, Food Play, Food Sex, Formalwear, Frottage, Fucking Machines, Gags, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Impact Play, Incest, Intercrural Sex, Knife Play, Latex, Leather Kink, Licking, Lingerie, M/M, Masochism, Massage, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medical Kink, Minor Character Death, Mirror Sex, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Object Insertion, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Prostitution, Public Sex, Rimming, Role Reversal, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Sadism, Scars, Scent Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys, Sex Work, Shibari, Sibling Incest, Size Difference, Sleepy Sex, Smut, Soul Sex, Sounding, Spanking, Stockings, Strength Kink, Strip Tease, Suspension, Teasing, Temperature Play, Tentacles, Threesome, Tickling, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Undertale Skeletons in Heat, Uniforms, Voyeurism, Xenophilia, distention, smiles/laughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-23 04:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 60,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamari333/pseuds/Kamari333
Summary: Kamari333's Kinktober shorts, following the prompts set alongHERE.Some days are hits. Some are misses. You be the judge if you choose to read.Individual tags in the summaries and notes.Functional Table of Contents included!





	1. Table of Contents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we can all find the sin we want quick and easy

_**HI FOLKS!** _

Beyond this point you will find ~58k of pure, unadulterated, self indulgent, Undertail-themed _SIN_ , all written and published during Kinktober2018. Please note that there may be plenty of typos, although I will/have since gone back and fixed some of them since I'm garbage and read my own stuff.

For quick and easy perusal I am putting a Table of Contents here.

* * *

**Day 0: Table of Contents** <=== YOU ARE HERE

[Day 1: Finish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/37739756)  
Prompt: Deep-throating  
Pairing: Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans  
Warnings: curse words 

[Day 2: Just a Kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/37768028)  
Prompt: Begging; Medical play  
Pairing: Underfell Papyrus x Underswap Papyrus  
Other tags: Bondage; Heat; Toys; Orgasm Delay/Denial 

[Day 3: On the Edge of a Knife](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/37794932)  
Prompt: Sensory Deprivation; Temperature Play; Edgeplay; Knife Play  
Pairing: none (Sans x ??????)  
Other Tags: kidnapping, orgasm denial, bondage, teasing, suspension  
Warning: dubcon (i mean not really, he's into it, but questionable communication so just fyi?)

[Day 4: Eye of the Beholder](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/37823093)  
Prompt: Mirror Sex; Dacryphilia (Crying)  
Pairing: Underfell Red x Dancetale Sans  
Other Tags: Scars, Body Worship, Praise, Empathy  
Warning: Body Dysphoria 

[Day 5: Happy Accidents](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/37851587)  
Prompts: Sadism/Masochism; Shotgunning  
Pairing: Tango (Underlust Sans x Dancetale Sans)  
Other tags: Asphyxiation; Spanking; Orgasm Delay/Denial 

[Day 6: Never Boring](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/37879043)  
Day 6 Prompts: Daddy Kink; Cock Worship; Biting  
Pairing: Rust (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans)  
Other Tags: Orgasm Denial; Bondage; Edgeplay; Public Sex; Bonds; Prostitution/Sex Work (mention) 

[Day 7: Fellcest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/37908290)  
Prompts: Praise-kink; Aphrodisiacs; Incest  
Pairing: Fellcest (Underfell Sans x Underfell Papyrus)  
Warnings: INCEST; non-consensual drug use (target doesn't care, but it happens, so just fyi) 

[Day 8: Perfect Storm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/37941791)  
Promps: Blood/Gore; Prostitution/Sex Work; Fisting; Hate-fucking/Angry Sex  
Pairing: Underlust Sans x Dusttale Sans  
Warning: minor character death 

[Day 9: SubSlime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/37969178)  
Prompts: Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscles); Bondage; Lingerie  
Pairing: Rust (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans)  
Other Tags: Orgasm Denial; Dom/Sub; BDSM; Praise 

[Day 10: The Taste of You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/37996739)  
Prompts: Micro/Macro; Bonds (Telepathic or Empathic)  
Pairing: Krumping (Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans)  
Other Tags: Dom/Sub, Orgasm Denial, Cock Worship, Praise, Fellatio 

[Day 11: What Works For You (Pt 1)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38023673)  
Prompts: Object Insertion; Sounding; Cross-dressing  
Pairing: Rust (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans)  
Other Tags: Heat; Teasing; Biting 

[Day 12: What Works For You (Pt 2)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38049902)  
Prompts: Licking; Rimming/Analingus  
Pairing: Rust (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans)  
Other Tags: Heat; Teasing; Biting; Sounding, rough sex 

[Day 13: Annoying Dog](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38074175)  
Prompts: Distant/Distracted Sex; Gags; Creampie  
Pairing: Undertale Papyrus x Swapfell Papyrus  
Other Tags: Spanking; Orgasm Denial; Bondage 

[Day 14: A Little Something Extra](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38101787)  
Promps: Asphyxiation; Distention; Tentacles  
Pairing: Underswap Papyrus x StoryShift Chara  
Other Tags: Nipple Play 

[Day 15: Burgerpants](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38134448)  
Prompts: Overstimulation; Intercrural Sex; Uniforms  
Pairing: Burgerpants x Reader (You)  
Other Tags: Scent Kink 

[Day 16: A Different Kind of Lost](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38160197)  
Prompts: Frottage, Body Worship  
Pairing: Horrortale Sans x Dusttale Sans 

[Day 17: Pet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38186567)  
Prompts: Masturbation; Seduction; Collaring; Orgasm Denial  
Pairing: Poisonpuff (Undertale Papyrus x Swapfell Sans) 

[Day 18: The Way You Like It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38212517)  
Prompt: Fucking Machine; Latex; Role Reversal; Xenophilia  
Pairing: Underfell Papyrus x Reader (You)  
Other Tags: Praise; Orgasm Denial 

[Day 19: Worth the Risk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38236160)  
Prompt: Public; Formal Wear; Cock-Warming  
Pairing: Krumping (Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans)  
Other Tags: Dom/sub 

[Day 20: Wait](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38259875)  
Prompt: Dirty Talk  
Pairing: Rust (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans) 

[Day 21: A Different Kind of Darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38285729)  
Prompt: Bukakke; Food Play; Suspension  
Pairing: Horrortale Sans x Underlust Sans 

[Day 22: The End of a Bad Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38317790)  
Prompts: Impact Play; Hand-Jobs; Threesome (or more)  
Pairing: Burlesque (Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans x Underlust Sans)  
Other Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, aftercare 

[Day 23: Just Ribbon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38346812)  
Prompts: Scars; Shibari; Size Difference  
Pairing: Burlesque (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans x Dancetale Sans)  
Other Tags: Dom/sub; Threesome 

[Day 24: Imagination](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38373620)  
Prompts: Shower/Bath; Leather  
Pairing: none  
\- mentioned Krumping (Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans)  
\- mentioned Burlesque (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans x Dancetale Sans)  
Other Tags: Collars; Masterbation; Bonds 

[Day 25: Not Ticklish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38401907)  
Prompt: Tickling; Boot Worship; Olfactophilia (Scent)  
Pairing: SpicyCinnaroll (Undertale Papyrus x Underfell Papyrus)  
Other Tags: Soul Fondling 

[Day 26: Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38425757)  
Prompt: Roleplay; Smiles/Laughter  
Pairing: Classicberry (Undertale Sans x Underswap Sans)  
Other Tags: Medical Play (kinda) 

[Day 27: Bass Drop](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38453156)  
Prompts: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism; Degradation; Against a wall  
Pairing: Burlesque (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans x Dancetale Sans)  
Other Tags: BDSM, Impact Play, Dom Drop 

[Day 28: Enough](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38482085)  
Prompts: Stripping/Striptease  
Pairing: Dancetale Papyrus x Swapfell Sans 

[Day 29: Doze](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38514086)  
Prompts: Sleepy Sex; Massage  
Pairing: Burlesque (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans x Dancetale Sans) 

[Day 30: Surprise!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38542808)  
Prompts: Gagging; Stockings/Tights/Pantyhose; Breast Worship  
Pairing: Alphyne (Alphys x Undyne)  
Other Tags: Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscles) 

[Day 31: Burlesque Ch22 Alt Ending](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38571818)  
Prompts: anything  
Pairing: Krumping (Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans)  
Other Tags: sensitive bones, blowjobs, anal  
Warnings: frustration and internal screaming 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy fuck i can't believe i wrote MORE than LAST YEAR


	2. Day 01: Finish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 Prompt: Deep-Throating
> 
> Pairing: Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans
> 
> Other tags: Overstimulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~1k long, just a drabble to start us off. not the best but eh i'm garbage so it matches me lol :P
> 
> Exploring a little relationship dynamic preemptively here. i kinda like it.

Red had been trying to grade the same essay for the last ten minutes -- emphasis on try. Despite all his bluster about it not bothering him, he thought maybe this time he had bitten off more than he could chew with this. Red would curse and kick himself for the unintended pun, but as it was, he didn't even have enough bandwidth to recognize it as such: hard to think about much of anything when the entirety of his dick is down someone's throat.

Red was sitting at his desk, staying for another weekend of grading papers after having to kiss ass with a bunch of self entitled parental units (fuck parent-teacher-night to hell) on friday, and not having the heart to cancel on his datemates on saturday. He'd expected to be alone with his Pen of Failure and his off-brand coffee he stole from the teachers lounge, the kind of instant garbage that tasted like mud and was probably just as nutritious. He'd expected to trudge through the tests and go home and sleep off the migraine that always came with extended exposure to stupid.

He hadn't expected Dance to come looking for him.

And he certainly hadn't expected Dance to crawl under the desk, settle between his splayed knees, and command him to summon his dick.

Red hadn't thought twice about it. He'd done as he was asked, fully intending to go back to work and let Dance do whatever he wanted (and wasn't that the crazy part, that he trusted Dance enough to leave himself so exposed, and vulnerable, without a moments hesitation). But, like always, like he should have known would happen because it happens _every fucking time Dance went near his magic_ , Dance had taken it upon himself to drain Red of both his excess magic supply _and_ his critical thinking skills.

Dance bobbed his head, steady and slow. Red could feel, with aching acuity, every swipe, stroke, and curl of his tongue (an appendage Red would have sworn was silver if he hadn't seen for himself the vivid sapphire blue it actually was), which left not one centimeter of his length unattended. It was as if Dance was mapping out his dimensions, memorizing them. Or perhaps he was just taking his sweet time tasting him, savoring the experience of Red's magic with reverent gusto. Red couldn't be sure. All he knew was how unbearably blissful it felt, sheathed and cradled against Dance's tongue, being attended to. All Red was aware of was the steadying grip of Dance's hands on his femurs and the tingling rush of Dance's magic grinding unforgivingly against his own.

Dance made a soft humming sound, a sound of approval, the noise causing the false flesh of his summoned throat to quiver around Red's length. That did it. Red doubled over the desk, shoving the essay aside so he didn't drool on it, biting back a scream he didn't want those big-mouth janitors to hear as he came, _again,_ for the umpteenth time that night. Dance sucked it all down, swallowing every drop of crimson-tainted magic as Red fought to remain conscious.

Dance slid off of Red with a wet slurping noise, although Red had no doubt in his mind that there wasn't a single drop left to even stain his shorts, never mind the floor. "i don't hear any writing up there," he commented idly, like he hadn't just been choking himself on Red with a smile.

Red panted, trying to blink the giftmas-colored spots out of his vision. "fuck yuuu..." he slurred, the bone-melting afterglow setting in without his consent, the cheap desk and cheaper chair suddenly too comfortable to keep his sockets open.

Dance, ever the helpful one, bit down lightly on Red's femur, jolting him awake. "don't nap yet, kitten," he commanded. "ya might have _finished_ but ya can't come home 'till your works all done."

Red grumbled a wordless complaint, his brain not quite up for witty banter at the moment, between the irritation at the pun and the warm static filling his skull from Dance's affections. The annoyance subsided quickly, wiped away with every nuzzle and kiss and nip his pet lavished on his legs and magic, sending shots of adrenaline shooting up his spine, laced with pleasure, and dragging along with it a warm, relaxing feeling he could only describe as _'being valued'_.

Red quickly graded the essay, the last of the night, and set it in the finished pile, before dumping all of them into his desk drawer and sagging with a different kind of relief.

Dance stole his attention immediately by sucking him once more, to the hilt, down his throat, moaning around him as he began to lazily lick, suck, and swallow at irregular intervals. Red yelped (an embarrassing, high pitched, breathy noise he couldn't believe came out of his own mouth). Dance responded by becoming more aggressive with his ministrations. Red could feel the impact of Dance's teeth against his pelvis, which only spurred him on faster to his inevitable end. Red bit into his arm, muffling the scream that was ripped from him with the thick leather of his coat sleeve as he came again, shaking so hard his bones rattled against each other, overstimulated magic leaking from his sockets and jaw, to puddle on the desk under his head.

Dance again drank everything Red had to give, draining him of the last of his energy. Red sank even heavier into his desk, whimpering pathetically as Dance dragged his tongue in one last lick on his way off of him. "heh, good kitten. lets go home now," Dance practically purred (or was it Red purring? he couldn't tell anymore, now that his world was blended together like watercolors made of pleasure and happiness). Dance politely tucked Red's still summoned magic back into his shorts (Red's cue to dispel it), then gripped Red's leg a bit tighter before shortcutting them both home.

In the morning, he doesn't remember how he got there, but Red wakes up in bed, feeling relaxed and appreciated, with a certain skeleton wearing a self-satisfied smirk snuggled securely in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> red thinks he's in charge but he's really not. can you tell?


	3. Day 02: Just a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 Prompt: Begging; Medical play
> 
> Pairing: SpicyHoney (Underfell!Papyrus x Underswap!Papyrus)
> 
> Other tags: Bondage; Heat; Toys; Orgasm Delay/Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this is author's first SpicyHoney so plz be gentle  
> ~2k but most of thats setup because i can't do Porn w/o Plot apparently

Edge had know about his oncoming heat cycle for weeks. He would have been a fool not to notice his own waning energy levels, the fever, the chills, the strange phenomena where his current partner was particularly intoxicating just by (not) performing everyday tasks. Edge took great pains to hide the symptoms as best he could, throwing around his LV-fueled temper strategically to scare off anyone and everyone who got too close.

Especially Stretch.

Edge felt bad about it, he really did (and guilt was not something he felt easily or well, given his affliction). However, for Stretch's sake, it was better he be hurt or angry with him. It was better Stretch be warded away. Edge was proud of his self control, but he wouldn't have much of any of it once the heat really hit. He couldn't afford for Stretch to come back until Edge called for him.

And Edge was already planning the perfect apology, with dinner and dessert and a trip to a bee farm (although Edge had no idea what a bee was, or why Stretch wanted to go to a farm for them).

Just as he had planned the perfect way to keep himself from doing something stupid.

With his brother's begrudging assistance, Edge cuffed himself to his bed, spread-eagle in order to minimize his leverage as much as possible. His brother left him there to wait out the three-to-five days of utter ridiculousness. Edge sighed as his bedroom door clicked shut, relaxing as he heard the lock mechanism latch. He was secure in his room, safe from others, and others safe from him.

Closing his eyes, Edge let himself drift into a meditative state, ignoring the building heat in his bones and the quivering of his SOUL demanding reunion with his chosen mate. He had no idea how long he'd been secure there, safe, in the dark and the quiet, when he again heard the door open and shut. At first, Edge assumed it to be his brother, come to bring him sustenance.

When he looked up, however, it was not his brother, standing there with a tray of oatmeal. It was Stretch, holding a cardboard box, smiling salaciously.

Edge felt his burning SOUL drop from his ribcage to his pelvis. He couldn't tell if it was from shock or a rush of arousal at seeing his chosen mate. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!" He demanded.

"heard from your bro that ya weren't feeling well. thought i'd come keep ya company," Stretch hummed, not the least bit surprised to see Edge chained to the bed, joints and scars glowing, covered in sweat. Edge knew in the back of his mind that that was suspicious, but between the unbearable heat and his sudden fixation with the other monster's every move, he couldn't pinpoint why. Stretch sat on the bed next to him, reaching out to wipe a bit of sweat from Edge's brow.

The contact of bone on bone, magic to magic, was excruciating and wonderful. Edge found his awareness focused on the point of contact, not even realizing his sockets had fluttered shut. Stretch's hand slid down to cup at his jaw. Edge leaned into his metacarpals, soaking up the gentle hum of the other's presence like a gross, slimy sponge.

Stretch chuckled, thumbing at the fringes of Edge's teeth. "damn, you're pretty far gone already, huh? real _hot and bothered_."

Edge unfortunately still had enough presence of mind to catch the awful pun, but not enough to stifle a chuckle of his own. "THAT WAS AWFUL. NOW- NOW G-GET OUT. YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE NOW."

"nah," Stretch deflected casually, pulling his hand away. "think i'll keep ya company right here. even brought myself a book to read." Stretch opened the box, pulling out a book and showing it off with a lazy grin. Something else thumped in the box, causing him to look down. "oh. and i brought ya a present." He set the book down on the side table, and with a deft flick of his wrist, unbuckled Edge's belt and yanked his leather pants down.

Edge tensed, feeling the metal of the cuffs bite into his bones as he strained against them reflexively. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?!"

"well, ya won't feel better unless we work some of that heat off, right?" Stretch hummed, brushing his thumb over the rim of Edge's pelvic inlet. Edge bucked into his hand involuntarily, panting harder, his body trying everything it could to regulate his temperature despite it being both futile and pointless. "i'm a lazy guy, but it doesn't take much work on my part to hook you up with something nice." He started to stroke at Edge's pubic symphysis, coaxing the magic that had been gathering in his pelvic inlet to manifest and take shape.

Edge bit back an appreciative, relieved groan, the feel of those slender fingers against him maddening in too many ways for him to process. "S-STOP!! YOU CAN'T JUST-"

Stretch stopped, pulling his hands away.

Edge fought back a whine (and he succeeded, no matter what his partner may say later). He took a moment to compose himself, scratching and clawing for some small scrap of rational thought. "WHY!! ARE!! YOU!! HERE?!?!"

Stretch sighed, shoulders slumping from exhaustion. "i'm here 'cause you're here, edgelord. i'm lazy, not inconsiderate. just wanna..." he made a vague gesture. "...help? i thought we were partners here."

"I AM NOT GOING TO BE IN MY RIGHT MIND YOU STUPID ASHTRAY!!" Edge snarled. "MY PERFECT CONTROL WILL BE AT ITS MOST UNPREDICTABLE AND YOU ARE HARLY DURABLE-"

"which is why i'd be the one taking control, honey."

Edge stopped. He hadn't even considered that. He was, at the moment, in the perfect position to be controlled, with the cuffs and all. And it wasn't as though he and Stretch weren't intimate previously. Edge still didn't like the idea, but he was quickly losing sight of any appeal for refusal.

"IF EVEN ONE OF THESE CHAINS COMES LOOSE YOU HAD BETTER-"

"i'll be gone," Stretch came as close to promising as he ever did, with a lazy wink. "may i have the honor? trust me?" His hand hovered again over Edge's unformed magic.

Edge grumbled, nodding curtly as he looked away. Stretch's smile relaxed to something more genuine. His hand returned, cool and magnanimous in its attentions to every surface it came in contact with. Edge sighed, pressing up into it as he let himself ( _made_ himself) relax further into the mattress, focusing on the expansion and contraction of his own ribcage.

Stretch took hold of Edge's erection the moment it took shape, stroking slowly up and down, smearing the liquid that leaked from the tip all along the length of it. Edge's body tensed again, but this time in anticipation. He could feel the good intentions, the genuine desire to help, to make him happy, make him _feel good_ , coming off of Stretch. His eyesockets once more drifted shut, a contented rumble escaping him. It was easier than Edge expected to just allow the other to do as he pleased.

That was probably the heat talking.

Edge didn't notice anything amiss until Stretch's hand pulled away unexpectedly. Even so, there was a weight still on his dick. Edge looked down, blinking in confusion at the strip around his circumference. He looked up at Stretch. "WHY DID YOU STOP THIS TIME?!"

Stretch grinned back at him, lecherous and proud. "i'm too lazy to do all this work. but this little gift should help. and i'll still keep ya company," he hummed, holding up a device Edge couldn't quite identify as a controller until it was too late, and Stretch had flipped the switch.

Immediately, Edge was assaulted with a sudden wave of vibrations bombarding his sensitive, heated magic, which ricocheted through his marrow and into his SOUL. He thrashed, unsure if he was trying to get away from the sensation or press closer to it. He achieved neither. It was torture, and bliss, and something not quite either, but also both at the same time, and Edge found himself helpless against the onslaught against his constitution. A scream was ripped out of him, which tapered off to a pathetic wimper not the least bit appropriate to make with his voice.

"holy shit..." Stretch breathed, eyelights smoldering, a sunny orange blush overtaking his face as he clutched his teeth with his free hand. Edge looked up at him, and found the heat in his frame intensify under that gaze, unwavering and worshipful and filled with a primal desire Edge knew too well.

Edge slowly, agonizingly slowly, adjusted to the toy attached to him. He still shook uncontrollably, rattling against himself, but he managed to swallow down any more of those humiliating noises. Gradually, the electric coil in his magic tightened, and he crept closer and closer to release. Closer. Closer. He threw his head back, fully expecting the tension to snap at any second. But seconds became minutes, and he was held strung out on that ledge between euphoria and ruin.

Stretch chuckled. "damn. even in heat, ya still need intent to get off, huh?" he mused out loud.

Edge's critical thinking was already frayed. He could barely understand the words his mate was saying, never mind puzzle out the implications. But every atom of dust in his body screamed that this wasn't enough, that he needed more. "SHIT!! FUCK!!! STRETCH!! I NEED- I-" His vision blurred, and he was distantly aware of the tears that began streaming from his sockets. "S-STRETCH-!!"

Suddenly, his mate was the only thing in his vision. Stretch loomed over him, bracing himself on the headboard, careful not to touch him. "yeah, honey? what do ya need?"

Edge's mind stuttered, filled with a chaotic haze of simplistic feelings. He was _hot_ , he was _safe_ , he was _in need_ , but he couldn't find the words. A part of him was furious at himself for being so pathetic. Saying what he wanted had never been a problem before! He just had to say it! Say he needed- He needed-

Stretch smiled fondly down at him, showing a mercy that Edge doubted his sadistic SOUL would ever do. "do ya want me to touch ya, honey? is that it?"

"YES!! FUCK!! STOP BEING SO FUCKING LAZY AND-" Edge snarled, his anger at himself coming out in a burst of rage.

"say please, then," Stretch commanded, soft and indulgent and unhurried, a sweetness to it that was almost a plea in and of itself.

Edge faltered, his anger deflating. He squirmed, weakly attempting to break free of his bindings, his SOUL demanding he take his mate and ravish him, become one, to take and take and take until the fire inside was smothered by affection and contentment and pleasure. The incessant buzz and vibration that was assaulting him kept disturbing his rational thought, the ripples distorting the image reflected in his mind of what he _ought to say, ought to do, ought to think._ He was left only with the shimmer on the surface of his wants and needs, along with the promise of delivery if he only swallowed his pride, just this once...

"F- SH- HNNNNG, OH, FUCK, PLEASE, JUST- JUST- _PLEASE_ T-" Edge was cut off by the sudden pressure of Stretch's teeth against his. Edge melted like butter, moaning shamelesly into his mate's mouth as he was finally pushed over the ledge, choking on the taste of honey and smoke, dizzy with the sudden exposure to _pure, unfetter affection and love_ radiating from every point of contact he had with his datemate; his teeth, Stretch's hands on his skull and shoulder, his tongue curling possessively in his mouth, daring to try and take control that Edge would not so easily give.

It was finally enough, and too much. Edge came, trembling with the shock of it, gasping with the relief of it.

The buzzing stopped, the vibrations ceased, and Stretch pulled away, licking his teeth clean of the red tint of Edge's magic. " _hot_ damn, ya came from just a kiss? didn't realize ya liked me so much, honey."

Edge collected his shattered cognition, gasping and panting heavily. "Y-YOU LAZY, CONNIVING LITTLE SHIT. YOU PLANNED THAT."

"maybe. scientist in me wanted to know," Stretch admitted with a shrug. "i was gonna play doctor with you anyway, so i thought i might as well use my phd."

"WHEN THIS IS OVER, YOU'RE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE."

Stretch grinned down at him, leaning in for another kiss, sweet and gentle. Edge returned it, honestly in awe of his partner's ingenuity to find the laziest way possible to help him through this. Stretch moved to nip lightly at his jaw, his neck, huffing in disappointment at finding Edge's armor in the way of further exploration. "why do you gotta wear this to bed?"

"I WASN'T EXACTLY EXPECTING YOUR ARRIVAL," Edge pointed out, sighing as he was lowered into a pleasant afterglow by such gentle touches.

"ya should have, bonehead. its my job to take care of ya. i'm the doctor here."

"THEN YOU BETTER NOT HALF ASS IT LIKE YOU DO ALL YOUR OTHER JOBS!!!" Edge tried to snap through his contented haze, only to sound petulant or mildly annoyed (and out of breath).

Stretch chuckled, a warm timbre that shook his whole lanky frame, his eyelights sparkling in genuine mirth. "well, i guess that means round two?"


	4. Day 03: On the Edge of a Knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 Prompt: Sensory Deprivation; Temperature Play; Edgeplay; Knife Play
> 
> Pairing: none (Sans x ??????)
> 
> Other Tags: kidnapping, orgasm denial, bondage, teasing, suspension
> 
> Warning: dubcon (i mean not really, he's into it, but questionable communication so just fyi?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~1k drabble. wasn't really feeling it for this one for some reason? my brain wanted do do like three different things and i don't have time to really plan it out so it came out this way
> 
> also i'm getting the feeling there is a pattern here with the recurring kinks. wonder why that could be... -__-;;

Sans had no idea how long he'd been there. He'd been left alone, blindfolded, strung up by his wrists and femurs, the setup holding his legs wide open and leaving him no leverage. He'd woken up there, and at first he'd tried to cry out for help... but nobody came. He eventually realized it might have been because there wasn't a single sound coming from him (that, or along with being blindfolded, his hearing had been muffled as well).

When he'd told his datemate about his little fantasy, he hadn't actually expected them to go all out like this (or at all for that matter). He hadn't seen anything coming. He didn't even know how they'd managed! Sans tried to fill the time mulling over how one would even go about gagging a magical skeleton, but that only occupied his thoughts for so long, left there without any other kind of stimulation, shivering in the chill, damp air, waiting for something to happen (and hoping it actually was his datemate and not some creeper who had kidnapped him).

After what had to have been hours (he thinks), finally, _finally_ something touched him. It was a soft something, a damp something, a cold something, like the soft bristles of a paintbrush dipped in chilled paint, gliding over his ribs in slow, even, steady strokes (and it was at this point Sans realized he was completely naked). The soft, gentle touch was overpowering after so long without any touch at all, and Sans was certain he would have yelped if he could make any noise. He tried to squirm away from it, but there was nowhere for him to go. The brush made sure to cover every inch of his ribs, inside and out, coating them in that cold lubricant.

The gentle attention by itself was already doing things to Sans that he was embarrassed about, his magic roiling wildly, impotently, likely putting on quite the lightshow. The brush felt great, he wouldn't lie (to himself), but what he wanted was to feel the other person. He couldn't get off without any intent from the other. This was just edging him, working him up and leaving him floundering.

The brush, seemingly finished with its work on his ribs, slipped down to slather his spine, sending lightning sparks up and down his body. He whined, although he couldn't hear it, shaking so hard he was sure he was rattling. The brush traveled lower still, pausing its work now and again (he assumed to reload with that cold substance), before traveling lower and lower until it was threading through his sacrum foramen, drenching him in that cold gel that clung and just made the chill that much more obvious against his quickly heating bones.

Then the brush pulled away. Sans waited, trembling, panting, sure he was drenched in sweat. He waited... and he waited... and he waited. He squirmed in his bindings, trying to call out for his datemate, trying to beg for mercy, for some kind of relief, for just one little touch.

Sans felt his SOUL manifest in his chest, which only made the chill and the heat and the _need to be touched_ more intense. He had no idea how long he was left there, trembling in the cold, his feverish body quaking with need. He struggled, trying to relieve himself even a little, but there was nothing to rub against, and with his arms over his head he couldn't reach anything.

His SOUL started to leak fluid, a few drops landing on his spine and sliding down to his sacrum. The way it made him itch didn't help in the least.

Eventually, the brush returned, teasing at his neck, this time drenched in something that burned. Just like before, there was no escaping it, and Sans was made to endure the gentle, teasing dance of soft bristles as it left trails of fire across his body. He could feel his SOUL gushing fluids, splattering his pelvis and inner ribcage lewdly. There was probably a sizable puddle on the floor beneath him by the time the brush pulled away again.

Sans thrashed as best he could, wanting it back, wanting something, _anything_ , a kiss, a kick, he didn't care, just _touch him, fuck-_!!

But it didn't come, his efforts futile. Sans was left to stew, again, for what seemed like hours, his SOUL only throbbing harder as the moments passed by, trembling and shaking. If he could, he'd be begging and screaming for release: the isolation when he knew someone had to be out there was absolute torture.

It must have been ages, Sans left to go out of his mind with want, before he again felt something against his ribs. It was cold and flat and noticeably metallic, sliding smoothly against his bones. He tried to press into it, only for it to pull away, and _fuck, no, come back, please-!_ Sans was crying from frustrating by this point, and if he hadn't been salivating before, he was now. He knew what it was that had just ben held against him.

It had been a knife.

Mercifully, this time the wait wasn't as long. Before Sans knew it, he felt the first cut into his ribs, the metal slicing cleanly through the outermost layer of bone, and with it, imbue the intent of the wielder into his body and SOUL. Sans tensed, but his trust had been rewarded, because all he was hit with was _love_ and a _desire to please_ , a desire to _make him feel good_.

And holy fuck, did it feel good.

Two more cuts, just like that, and Sans found himself crashing over the highest edge he'd ever been on, his skull filled with unintelligible static and ringing with a heavenly tone right before he lost consciousness.

It had been the best orgasm of his life.

When Sans next came to, he was swaddled in a soft, warm blanket, the faint smell of soap still in the air from a bath he'd apparently been given, being held by his datemate. He nuzzled into their shoulder, letting them know he was awake and aware (ish; he wasn't all the way there, still riding a high, coasting on aftershocks). His datemate pet at his skull, pulling him closer for a well deserved cuddle. Sans closed his somewhat sensitive eyesockets, breathing deep as he let himself drift back into a nap, his last thoughts of how he could repay his wonderful datemate for being so good to him.


	5. Day 04: Eye of the Beholder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 Prompt: Mirror Sex; Dacryphilia (Crying)
> 
> Pairing: Underfell Red x Dancetale Sans
> 
> Other Tags: Scars, Body Worship, Praise, Empathy
> 
> Warning: Body Dysphoria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaaand we're back to our regularly scheduled program of gratuitous sanscest!! (like we ever left pffffft)
> 
> 2.5k of more exploration of the krumping ship (cuz thats a great fuckin' name)

Dance looked down at the hand bunching up his hoodie, traveling up the limb with his eyelights to look back up at Red. "what?" He asked, sure he must have misheard the other.

"i said, take th' fuckin' hoodie off," Red growled, again.

"don't wanna," Dance answered, gripping Red's wrist to pull it away.

"if i gotta let lust wash my coat, yer sufferin' with me," Red grumbled, not letting go, not even moving at Dance's attempts to move his arm. It confused Dance at first, since Red had never _not_ moved for him before. It was easy to forget sometimes that Red didn't _have_ to do what he wanted, that he _chose_ to. And right now Red was choosing not to let go. "take. it. off."

Dance ground his teeth. "i said _no_ and i mean it. back off." He leaned back, trying to pull away.

The fight devolved into a tangle of flailing limbs and shouting, Dance trying futilely to escape while Red firmly maneuvered him like a doll and stripped him without even breaking a sweat. Once Dance was stripped of all his clothes (hoodie included), Red released him, shaking out the pockets so nothing important got put through the wash and stuffing the contents into an empty cardboard box to be retrieved later.

Dance did his best to cover himself, to hide his scar with his arms, turning to face away from Red, glaring angrily over his shoulder, shaking in rage at the perceived betrayal.

Red darted out of the bedroom to pass off the dirty laundry to Lust, leaving Dance alone for a moment. He let out a shaky, irate breath, turning to glare a hole in the wall, only to come face to face with his reflection in Lust's full body mirror. Dance looked up and down at himself, scowling, unimpressed. He looked even smaller without his hoodie, frail and broken, just like he felt. His gaze fell on his xiphoid process, where the tip had been cut clean off, perfectly in line with the curved arc of his scar that transected the right side of his ribcage. He looked down at it directly, prodding at the flat edge with his fingers, scratching at the ridge and sanding down the callous, sending powdery dust to the floor.

"izzat what this is about?" Red's voice broke through the dysphoric silence, making Dance jump. He looked up, seeing Red behind him in the mirror's reflection. "yer scars?"

"get out!" Dance screeched, his voice pitching higher with his distress. He attempted to cover himself again, but before he could (before he could even turn around) Red was at his back, taking his wrists hostage and holding them at shoulder hight, to either side. His grip was cold, but gentle, careful not to twist too hard or dig his claws into Dance's bones.

"ain't havin' none o' that shit," Red declared. "nope. nippin' this shit in th' bud right fuckin' now. _there ain't nothin' wrong wi'cha._ yer handsome as fuck. scar just gives ya character."

"it's _disgusting!_ " Dance spat thoughtlessly. To him, it was. It was a constant reminder of his failure, his repeated failure. It was his mark of shame, that he couldn't keep his promise. It was a visible sign that he was _broken_ , a reminder that his SOUL was _broken_ and his song was _wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, **wrong**_.

"...guess i disgust ya too, huh?" Red mused aloud, his gravely baritone rasped with barely repressed _disappointment_.

Dance went still, and then limp, slumping back into Red as he squeezed his sockets shut, kicking himself. _Red was covered in scars._ "thats not what i-"

"then what did ya mean?" It wasn't accusatory. it was an honest question.

If this was gonna work, Dance had to keep being honest.

"its not that the scar's bad by itself. its where it came from, what it means," Dance tried to explain. "its something i got because i'm a fuck up."

"most scars are," Red deadpanned. "if yer enough o' a fuckup t' get hit, yer a damn fuckup. but ya gotta- ya-" he made a _frustrated_ noise, letting go of one of Dance's wrists so he had a free hand to wrap around Dance's bare throat. Red caught Dance's chin in the crook between his thumb and index, his middle and ring fingers curling around Dance's cervical vertebrae as his pinkie curled under to rub at the front of his neck. He put just enough pressure that it pinned Dance's head flush to Red's ribcage.

It forced Dance to look up at his reflection. Dance reflexively gripped onto Red's arm, clutching at him for stability he wasn't aware he needed. He stared back at himself, taking in how small his eyelights were, how small he looked compared to Red, "look at yerself! ya might o' fucked up but ya lived through that fuckup!! that _means_ somethin'! its th' best damn part about ya! everyone fucks up at some point! its part o' life! but not ev'ryone makes it through th' other side, 'n..."

Red let go of Dance's other wrist, his other arm wrapping around him so he could drag the back of his fingers, the joint between his distal and intermediate phalanges, along the scar, tender and _appreciative_ and _affectionate_. Dance had to grip onto that arm as well, the emotions hitting him like a shovel to the face (he was _not ready for this today_ ).

"not everyone what does come out... comes out so much better fer it, ya no?" Red whispered, raw, honest, unfettered _awe_ and sentimentality (i.e. _love_ ) making his voice waver.

Dance's vision went a bit blurry, and it took a few moments to blink away the tears before he could see in his reflection that he was crying.

Red stiffened against him. "fuck- no- shit, i didn't- aw, fuck me, don't start cryin', i didn't mean-" he stuttered, genuine _concern_ and _panic_ radiating off of him.

"shut up, you bonehead, i'm having an emotional moment over here," Dance grumbled, his face heating up from the embarrassment of it all.

Red calmed down, _amused_ grin tugging at his teeth. "a'aight. since yer feelin' shit, hows about ya lemme drive?" He suggested, tightening his grip on Dance, the hand that had been at his ribs drifting down to his ilia. " i get ya got control issues-"

"pot meet kettle-"

"-but gimme this one," Red huffed, ignoring Dance's remark.

Dance hesitated. He'd never been one to give up control. It _hurt_ just thinking about. He needed it... right? If something went wrong and he wasn't able to fix it, then what?! He _needed_ control, needed-

Red turned Dance's face to one side, just enough to lean down and lick away the tear stains. Dance felt the jolt of energy and emotion from that not-so-brief contact with Red's summoned appendage, waves of _reassurance_ , _affection_ , _protectiveness_ , and _love_ knocking him over like a freight train. Dance sagged back into Red's hold, closing his sockets before giving a small nod.

Dance could feel Red's grin widen. Before Dance knew it, Red had pulled a stool over with his BLUE magic, positioned it right in front of the mirror, and sat down. He quickly and easily manipulated Dance's legs, slinging them over his knees so Dance was spread open in his lap, facing the hateful mirror. Dance blushed at the display, not used to being in such a position. For a moment, he was concerned about falling over, since like this his feet didn't reach the floor. Red's solution was to keep ahold of Dance's neck and chin with his one hand, holding Dance up and making sure Dance was watching every move that he made in their shared reflection.

Red hooked his chin over Dance's shoulder, at first just boring holes into his reflected image, gaze smoldering and predatory. Dance shivered, feeling it like a sunbeam on his bones. Red scratched lazily at his jaw, his other hand rubbing soothing circles into his ilium, kneading at his ala as his touch slid along the ridge of the wing, back and forth.

"easy, kitten," Red rumbled, deep and soothing, like velvet, the grit smoothing out with his hushed, _worshipful_ tones. "i gotcha. ya ain't got no goddamn idea how much i enjoy just lookin' at'cha. fuckin' work o' art," he murmured in Dance's acoustic meatus, teeth pressing into his clavicle in a facsimile of a kiss. "outa be fuckin' illegal t' look this good. i got fifteen pounds o' contraband in my lap right now."

Dance felt his magic burn his face, saw the deep blue take over his maxilla and nasal ridge in his reflection. "oh my god, shut up."

Red snickered, nuzzling against Dance's skull as his free hand started to stroke at Dance's lumbar vertebrae. The tips of his claws dragged along the surface, catching on the edges of the joints and stirring up his magic, causing his breath to hitch. "whats th' matter? don't like hearin' what i'm thinkin'? 'r maybe..." his hand fell away from Dance's throat, tracing over his scar achingly slow, sending jolts of electricity through Dance's marrow. "maybe ya like it too much?"

"shut up," Dance whined, bringing both his hands up to hide his face. He was _not used to this kind of attention_. The worst (best) part was that he could _feel_ how genuine it was, every twitch and quiver of his SOUL relishing in the positive reinforcement.

Red gently pulled Dance's arms down, positioning them at his sides. He then wrapped his own arms around Dance, pinning Dance's arms in place while leaving both of his hands free to roam. "no hidin', kitten. look at yerself, but fer once, don't be so fuckin' judgmental. if ya can give my ass a break, ya outa give yerself one too..."

Red licked at Dance's neck, his cold, electric magic seeping through his joints and sending waves of _safety_ and _security_ and _affection_ through him. The scent of watermelon and smoke and mustard was deliciously smothering. Dance bit back a noise, naturally leaning his head to one side, to give Red further access.

He bared his throat. He gave up control.

Lust had always made Dance feel strong, strong enough to handle whatever it was that life threw at him. But Red? Red didn't make Dance feel strong. He made Dance feel like, for just a little while, he didn't _need to be_ ; that it was okay to not have all the answers, to let go, to give himself a break. The relief of that realization, of that weight off of Dance's shoulders, brought him once again to tears.

Red shushed, cooing softly, his talented fingers ghosting over Dance's ribs and spine. His hands were large, but his claws tapered off to slender, sharpened tips, and Dance found Red was talented at finding surfaces and other hard-to-reach spots, inside and out, that usually went unattended. Even as Red kissed and licked Dance's tears away, murmuring gruff reassurances that, "i gotcha, its okay, i'm here, kitten, yer doin' great, just relax," his claws sought out his joints, his foramen, and other magic-heavy spots, scratching and teasing at them until Dance's SOUL throbbed and shivered with a desire for more, leaving him a shaky, panting, crying mess.

Dance fought to hold in his voice out of sheer pride, but either his willpower had taken a long overdue vacation, or Red was better than anyone gave him credit for, because after a while, Dance could barely hear Red's sweet nothings over his own stuttered moans and shaky panting. His sockets squeezed shut, Dance clutched at the stool under them for some kind of grounding. Dance felt his magic quickly formed his pseudo flesh, an involuntary, pavlovian reflex after so long associating this feeling of _want_ and _intimacy_ and _pleasure_ with the activities he'd shared with Lust.

"holy shit," Red breath, his hands going still.

Dance blinked his sockets open, ready to complain as vocally as he was capable about how Red had no business stopping _now_ , when he saw his reflection: Dance's scar was glowing a vivid azure, shimmers of gold occasionally peaking through. It looked like the reflection of the sun on crystal blue ocean waters, fluid and graceful and etherial, the surrounding bone glistening with droplets of sapphire sweat. Dance forgot to breath.

A loud, rumbling purr roared to life behind him, making Red's ribs quiver pleasantly against Dance's back. At the same time, one of Red's claws dipped into the swelling pool of magic in his scar; the combined sensation had Dance's eyelights rolling into the back of his skull.

"fuckin' artwork, wha'd i tell ya? natural goddamn wonder," Red breathed, redoubling his efforts at teasing along the scar, stirring Dance's magic and making his SOUL spasm inside him. His other hand curled around Dance's length, pumping it slow and languid, careful not to let his claws pierce the translucent skin.

"oh my god," Dance gasped, bucking into both points of contact while still trying to keep pressed against Red's still vibrating ribcage.

"'god' seems so formal," Red murmured, nipping with a far too _pleased_ hum at Dance's throat, dragging his false tooth along the edge of one of the disks. Dance could feel his _smug_ -ass smirk against his throat. "'sans'll do just fine, kitten."

"oh, _fuck you_ ," Dance mewled, trying to sound irritated, but given that Red chose that exact moment to speed up his ministrations, it came out sounding like a plea with a completely different connotation.

"later," Red assured him, starting to tease at the tip of Dance's length. His other hand shifted, clawing lightly along the curve of Dance's scar until it came to his shaved off xiphoid process. Red thumbed at it almost roughly, scratching at the underside of Dance's ribs as he did.

Dance groaned, sockets fluttering shut again as the hot coil that had been pulling every string of magic in his body tight finally snapped, and he came with a scream. Red continued to work him through it, purring loudly as he wrung every last spasm and twitch of bliss he could out of him. "there it is... fuck yer a goddamn wonder... even yer screams 'r musical... thats it..."

When Dance finally slumped back again, gasping for air he didn't need, all of his energy spent, he felt Red pick him up again, this time with a supporting arm under his knees and shoulder blades, cradled to his chest sideways, bridal style. Dance growled at the indignity, but he didn't have the energy to protest as Red carried somewhere. Dance only figured out it was the bathroom after he woke up from a power nap, clean and wrapped in a fluffy towel, cuddled in Red's arms as he slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "god seems so formal, just call me sans"


	6. Day 05: Happy Accidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Sadism/Masochism; Shotgunning
> 
> Pairing: Tango (Underlust Sans x Dancetale Sans)
> 
> Other tags: Asphyxiation; Spanking; Orgasm Delay/Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~1.5k of really shitty tango smut. enjoy (if you can, its not that great tbh pfft)

Dance hadn't meant to do it, the first time. Lust's certain of it.

It had been during one of their usual lunch meet-ups, on an unusual day: one of Lust's clients had come in and started flirting with him, hard. Lust wasn't above a little exchange of wit, but this had been different. The lady had been rather handsy, and her language had been rather graphic, evocative. Lust almost bailed on the whole thing, had almost gone to his boss and let him know how uncomfortable he was with the unwanted solicitation, but Lust couldn't bring himself to. He went about his business, helped her with her back, and send her on her way. Then he grit his teeth and dealt with the borderline painful burn she's stoked through the rest of his shift.

When he finally managed to get to their agreed upon lunch spot, Dance was already there with their orders. Lust must have looked as badly off as he felt, because Dance took one look at him, dropped a respectable tip on the counter of the coffee shop, then shortcut them back to Lust's apartment bedroom.

Lust hadn't wasted any time in accepting the invitation, shucking off his clothes with a speed born of practice and pouncing on Dance, snuggling into his arms and whining with relief at being held by the monster he loved so much. Dance smelled of the ocean, salt and water and sunlight, with a bit of ketchup. His hands on his bones felt like what he imagined the balm of aloe vera was on sunburned skin, cool and soothing. He let Dance maneuver him onto the bed, uncaring now that he was safe in the knowledge that he was going to be taken care of.

Dance always took such good care of him.

That day Lust found himself on his hands and knees, summoned ass in the air, his face buried in a pillow as he waited patiently (despite his eager, trembling body and sweaty, rattling bones), telling himself that he was this turned on because Dance was here, and it had nothing to do with being groped by a stranger at work.

Dance leaned over him, putting a soothing pressure on Lust's back. "i know you're eager, but hang on a little longer..." His hands slid along Lust's manifested hips and butt, squeezing gently.

Lust sighed happily, sockets fluttering shut, because _he was there_ , and Lust never felt more safe and loved than in the hands of one of his boyfriends. His entire world was centered around the feel of those hands on him, how they traveled along the surface of his magic, seeking out their target. Eventually, one hand curled under him, and took hold of Lust's throbbing length. Lust keened, bucking into it, trying to generate more friction.

Dance chuckled, his other hand sliding to find Lust's asshole, toying with the rim before sinking a finger inside. Lust groaned, a soft cry drawn out of him as he was shotgunned. It was achingly slow at first, Dance's hand dragging up and down his shaft like he was admiring the craftsmanship, his finger going in and out with curious ease. Soon a second finger joined the first, and Dance's stroking picked up in pace.

Lust melted, clutching the pillow tighter as he mewled with something between gratitude and frustration. He loved being touched, he loved how Dance touched him and tended to him, but right now all he was doing was teasing. Lust didn't need prep this thorough (hell, he didn't really need prep at all). Lust squirmed, feeling himself brought far too slowly to the edge, that heated coil in his core winding tighter with every passing second.

Soon (but not soon enough, never soon enough), Dance yanked out his fingers, and Lust felt the hot, electric pressure of his magic grinding against him. Lust moaned with relief, pressing back into it eagerly, trembling with excitement. "fuck, yes, please~~!"

Dance lined up, pressing in with more of that teasing slowness, but this time Lust was grateful for it. Even at this speed, after all the buildup, it was enough to have Lust's eyelights rolling back, that coil inside him read to snap-

Just was it was about to, just as Lust was about to fall into bliss, Dance's hand on his dick twitched, then tightened its grip, squeezing hard enough to hurt, cutting off his impending orgasm with a _delicious_ wave of pain. Lust screamed out, bucking back into Dance, causing him to slide in to the hilt. Lust was seeing stars and hearts, but he could hear the muted curses from his datemate behind him, apparently not quite prepared for Lust's heat and tightness.

It took a few seconds for them both to realize what had actually happened.

Lust looked over his shoulder, tentatively. He was terrified he'd see judgement or contempt on Dance's face. What he saw instead were literal hearts in his eyelights, a deep azure blush stripped across his nasal ridge. Lust's fears vanished, replaced with a grateful appreciation for Dance.

They were silent, looking at each other. Dance was the one to break the ice, making a throat clearing noise. "ya, uh, ya like this?" he squeezed at Lust's dick again, harder than the last time. Lust answered with another moan, shaking as he tried to keep his sanity. "...guess thats as good an answer as any..." Dance wheezed, apparently finding it difficult to speak, himself.

Lust swallowed. "dance... baby, please..." He pleaded. "just... i don't care... squeeze me, spank me... bite... scratch... whatever you want... just, please, _please_ don't stop..!"

"but what if i actually-?" Dance started to protest.

"thats what... safewords are for, baby," Lust assured him between panting.

Dance looked like a starving man, skeptical of the feast laid out before him. Lust had suspected his sadistic proclivities (they aligned with his control needs quite nicely), but this was confirmation of the highest caliber. Dance hesitated, the hand not still holding Lust's summoned magic in a vice grip came down, rubbing gently at Lust's ass. Lust groaned softly, snuggling into the pillow, perfectly willing to wait while Dance decided-

_SMACK_

Lust yelped at the impact of Dance's hand on his pseudo-flesh, jolting away from it. It made him pull off a little from Dance's length, before slamming back down onto it. Lust gasped at the combined sensations, whimpering. Dance hit him again, a little harder, in the same spot. Lust whined, shaking, his eyes watering now. Then Dance started to piston into him, holding him in place firmly by his dick, so he couldn't escape, spanking him over and over intermittently. His magic ached in the best way, and he was sure it was starting to discolor. Dance's member sank deep and fast into him, striking at the sensitive false nerves and driving him faster into bliss.

What really kept Lust's attention was how Dance's tight, unrelenting grip on his length never wavered. Wave upon wave of orgasmic potential battered at Lust's SOUL. His voice got louder with every aborted climax. He wanted to come. He wanted _more_.

Dance suddenly pulled out, releasing his death-grip on Lust. Lust sobbed, the sudden bereavement utter torture, leaving him shaking and disoriented.

Dance's hands returned to him, rolling him onto his back. Dance loomed, pinning Lust's arms over his head and stealing a kiss, possessive and demanding. Lust melted into it, euphoric at the return of his touch, starved for it even after all that he'd been given.

Dance thrust inside him again, rutting hard. Lust moaned into his mouth, working with him, wrapping his legs around Dance's waist and pulling him closer, needing him closer.

Dance brought one hand down, curling it around Lust's throat. He didn't squeeze, settling it under the collar, which only crackled once before going silent, thrumming against the both of them. The faint smell of watermelon flit through the air, but it was smothered in the scent of ocean winds. Lust brought his one free hand down, pressing on the one around his throat, a silent request. Dance obliged, squeezing down.

Lust couldn't see anything but spots of light, feel anything but Dance's magic, like rushing water, hear anything but the steady purring coming from his lover's ribcage, soft and stuttered and muted like Lust was underwater. But Lust wasn't underwater, he was under Dance, drowning in him, choking on his tongue and squirming on his dick and unable to breath even if he had needed to. The rush of it, at being so utterly helpless and safe at the same time, was taking him higher and higher towards what he could only describe as heaven.

Then Dance let go, releasing his hold on Lust's neck and pulling out of their kiss, throwing his head back with a shout of his own as he came, hips stuttering. The sudden rush of air and tingling heat filling his lower body shoved Lust hard off the ledge he'd been so precariously balanced on, and with a ragged sob he came as well, clinging to his mate and shaking beneath him.

They both went limp in unison, clutching each other tighter, uncaring of the mess with their need to be closer.

Lust made a mental note to explore this new addition to their bedroom activities later, before drifting off to sleep, lulled by the afterglow and the sound of his lover's breathing.


	7. Day 06: Never Boring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 Prompts: Daddy Kink; Cock Worship; Biting
> 
> Pairing: Rust (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: Orgasm Denial; Bondage; Edgeplay; Public Sex; Bonds; Prostitution/Sex Work (mention)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write something like this since [a certain someone sent a certain ask about a certain shirt](https://resonance-chatroom.tumblr.com/post/176047028995/leaves-a-present-for-the-skelebros-it-is-a-box). It feels like ages since I've written this dynamic, the 'Resonance' Rust dynamic, which is so similar and yet so different than the 'Burlesque' one, that I wonder if I've gotten them right here.
> 
> ah well. no time to critique. its kinktober

Red dozed at his sentry station, bored out of his mind. Nothing ever came through this way, out in the boonies of Snowdin, except the occasional EXP Hunter or other guard members. Edge still demanded it be manned, though, and who better to man it than Red?

Red understood the logic -- now that Edge knew about his shortcuts, if anything happened elsewhere and he was needed, Red would be able to get to the problem faster, even from so far out, and then return to his post just as fast once the threat was neutralized. Even before that, the place was ideal for Red because of his excellent hearing; nobody would be able to get the drop on him, where they couldn't take a single step without the soft crunch of snow giving them away.

The locals had finally figured that out (after a few never returning from the attempt), and had largely stopped trying to get at him while he was here.

Which of course meant it was boring.

Red was just about to drift off completely, maybe buff up his HP, when he felt the tug of a familiar presence at his SOUL. He growled, sitting up as he wiped his sockets tiredly. "thought i told ya not t' come 'round here."

Warm, bony arms wrapped around Red's neck, an equally warm, bony skull nuzzling the side of his, teeth pressing to his jaw. "you did~" Lust purred, sultry and sweet, in is acoustic meatus. "and i chose to ignore you~"

"as per usual," Red grumbled, gripping at one of Lust's arms with one hand, just holding him there. He _hated_ having Lust in underfell, absolutely _loathed_ it... but he'd admit, at least to himself, that he enjoyed the company. Through the bond of the collar, he could feel Lust enjoyed it too, the loneliness and frustration that had been haunting him all day fading in an instant.

"since i'm here..." Lust continued, slipping gracefully around Red to slide into his lap, "and you're here... how about we..?" he ground into Red's lap, pressing his already straining crotch into Red's pelvis.

"stars, yer fuckin' insatiable," was Red's querulous reply, making Lust laugh before pressing into a proper kiss. Red bit down on Lust's tongue, though he was careful not to break the summoned skin, growling low at his impudence to try and take control. Lust, in turn, slid one hand up Red's sweater, baring his spine and lower ribs to the winter wind, making him gasp at the shock. Lust took the opportunity to press further into Red's mouth, his other hand holding Red's head in place, unyielding and possessive. As he did, Lust's mischievous fingers scratched and toyed with Red's scarred ribs. Between the kiss, the touches, and the overwhelming feeling of Lust's _happiness_ and _arousal_ echoing back to him, Red couldn't stop himself from purring.

Lust pulled his head back, licking his teeth, eyelights smoldering in the shape of hearts. "stars you taste amazing..."

"shut th' fuck up," Red growled. "if ya want it so fuckin' bad, bend over th' counter already."

Lust smiled wider, gripping Red's arms and pinning them to the counter behind him, never looking away from Red. "maybe i wanna try something different today?"

"like what?" Red asked, two seconds too late. Suddenly there were bone constructs pinning his forearms to the counter top; one set piercing between his radii and ulnae, two sets sprouting from either side and crossing over his arms, making it so he couldn't pull his arms off the bone or slip beneath the crossed ones. He clawed into the counter on reflex, tense, glaring at Lust. "what th' fuck?!"

Lust let go of Red's now trapped arms, still smiling, still calm and excited and completely focused on him. "you know your safeword, baby. i'm going to try something new, so i'm trusting you to keep watch, okay~?" He purred, kissing Red again, just as possessive and affectionate as before. Red snarled into his mouth, nipping angrily at his tongue, which prompted Lust to grip at Red's tented (traitorous) erection and squeeze. Red certainly didn't whine at that, of course not. It was just a high pitched growl.

When Lust pulled away again, he sank down under the counter, spreading Red's legs and yanking his shorts down to reveal the thick magical construct pulsing there, involuntarily. Lust paused, looking up at Red again, giving him another chance to back out. Red scowled down at him, infuriated and embarrassed, but hardly going to back out. He was above that. There wasn't a damn thing Lust could do to scare him off.

_~~If he heard even the echo of a footstep coming down that path he was gonna shortcut the fuck out of there, but until then he'd stay put~~ _

Lust smiled wider, nuzzling into Red's heated length, nibbling tenderly, tugging lightly on the summoned skin. Red felt SOUL pulse faster, his magic rushing through him faster as the adrenaline rush of doing this somewhere they could so easily get caught finally hit. Red clicked his teeth irritably, trying to ignore his... whatever Lust was to him ( _who the fuck needed labels, they were two guys who occasionally fucked, and by occasionally he meant daily, and by fucked he meant had sex and napped together and fed each other and used each other as furniture but not in the kinky way but also sometimes in the kinky way because Lust was a freak_ ), to remain aloof even though his lower body felt like it was melting and it was getting progressively harder to keep still.

"you know..." Lust hummed, still pumping lazily at Red's shaft. "i had, like, six different people come to me for a little daddy kink play today..."

"and why th' fuck should i give a damn?" Red asked, not really paying much attention to the conversation, more interested in the way Lust's warm phalanges slid along his shaft, spreading his pre and sending jolts of pleasure through him, all the while he was bombarded with echoes of _appreciation_ and _adoration_ , because of-fucking-course Lust loved his dick. It was his, whats not to love?

"because~" Lust purred, right before snaking his tongue out to swipe at the tip, wrenching a groan out of Red. "i couldn't help thinking just how much better that it would sound coming from you~"

"oh, _fuck_ no!" Red snarled, feeling his face heating up. "like fuck imma call anyone that, least ov'all _y-_ " Red was interrupted mid rant by Lust unfairly sliding half his dick into his mouth, his tongue curling and massaging the underside as Lust's summoned throat began to engulf him.

Lust pulled his mouth away, licking his teeth again, purring louder. "well~ if you're so certain, you won't mind if i try to persuade you, will you, baby~"

Red didn't have the chance to reply before Lust once again engulfed his length, swallowing around him hard. He cursed, his hips jerking on reflex, which only seemed to spur Lust on. Centimeter upon centimeter was taken down his summoned throat, the false flesh quivering deliciously around Red with every soft noise of pleasure and delight. The _pleasure_ and _contentment_ buffeting Red's SOUL from the bond didn't help matters, and it wasn't long before he was close, so close, achingly close-

Only for Lust to pull away, at the last possible second, grinning up at him. "what about now, baby? have something to ask daddy yet?" Lust smirked mischievously though hooded sockets, his hand still stroking lazily, too slow and too soft to get Red anywhere.

Red thrashed in his seat, understanding now why it was Lust restrained his arms. "ya fuckin'- shut th' fuck up an' get on with it, slut!!" Red snapped.

Lust snickered. "now, now~ thats not how you ask nicely~" He cooed, kissing at Red's engorged member, nuzzling it, _teasing it_ with genuine affection and worship. Red bit back an embarrassing noise, glaring at the smug bastard between his legs. "don't look at me like that! you're having fun too, you know! see?" Lust licked a long strip, from base to tip, the sheer pleasure of which made Red's vision fuzzy.

"f-fuck. you." Red spat between clenched teeth.

Lust shrugged. "alright~" He again went back to choking on Red's length, clearly enjoying himself, watching Red's every reaction and expression with rapt attention, eyelights sparkling.

Red spitefully tried not to give him any kind of show, tried to look as unaffected and bored as he had been before Lust's arrival. Considering how his body kept twitching, how he could feel his face burning and hear that traitorous itch in his ribcage sing for his mate, Red was rather certain he failed spectacularly. He occasionally couldn't keep in a stuttered curse, soft, breathy noises escaping from behind his teeth despite his best efforts. He tried leaning forward, hiding his face in the counter between is arms, but Lust's response to that was to grab his collar with BLUE magic and yank him upright.

It honestly wasn't fair how strong Lust was, with only LV1. It wasn't fair at all. Especially when all he used it for was to _rile Red up, the fucking tease, he outa rip him clean in half, the son of a bitch, why the ever loving fuck did he have to be so good at this?!_

Lust pulled off of Red again, _again_ , just before he could climax, making a sinful wet noise. "how about now, baby? have something to ask me~?"

"ain't this yer day job?" Red hissed, still not ready to give in (on either front). "shouldn't ya be doin' somethin' else on yer break than th' same fuckin' work ya do on th' clock?"

Lust snickered, placing a tender kiss that had nothing to do with physical gratification, a pulse of _love_ echoing though the bond. "i do a lot of things at work, but you? you're something i do for _pleasure_ ~"

Red didn't have a response for that, other than fight back the sudden heat intensifying in his body. Why did he only wear sweaters and thick winter coats again? It was hot as fuck out here.

Lust sighed, happily resuming his previous task of drinking Red in lazily. Lust's other hand crept down to unbuckle his own pants, easing them down to his knees and massaging his own aching magic. Red could see the amethyst glow, smell the hot, sweet, musty magic that was dripping from him. Red had known the extent to which Lust was turned on, but knowing it and seeing it (smelling it, tasting it) were two completely different things. An embarrassing whine escaped him, his squirming only intensifying. _Fuck he wanted to plow into that_.

Red came close alarmingly fast, no longer certain where his needs ended and Lust's began, the feedback loop of desire coupled with Lust's professional-grade attention driving him mad.

Lust pulled off of him again, panting and gasping from the intensity of his own want. "so~ how about now, baby~?"

Red kept his mouth shut, not trusting his voice.

"sweetheart, theres more than one way out of this..." Lust reminded him. "no judgement." Another sweet kiss to his length, followed by teasing little squeezes to the base.

Red whined, his resolve crumbling because he could feel it, Lust wasn't kidding. This was a game he wanted to play and Red could say no any time he fucking wanted, no strings. Another stroke to his magic, another rush of _euphoria_ , another pulse of _love_.

"fuck- fu- i give. i fuckin' give, _daddy_ , fuck, jus-" Red mewled, only to be cut off as Lust dispelled the bones holding his arms in place, pushing Red off the stool and into a nearby snow poff, only to straddle him and pull him into a kiss. Red wrapped his sore arms around him, holding him tighter as they rutted against each other, the both of them making unintelligible noises of relief and pleasure.

Lust pulled away, panting, shifting up and grabbing Red's length to line up with his hole. "say it again, baby."

Red felt another rush of heat through his body. He hesitated, but his pride was already broken. "d-daddy..."

Lust slid onto him, moaning out himself as their magic finally connected the way they had wanted to from the beginning. Lust pushed Red's sweater up again, leaning down to lavish his ribs with attention. "again, baby. who am i?"

"lust, fer fucks sake-" Red complained, only for Lust to raise his hips and slam down onto Red again, sending a sudden shock of pleasure up his spine. " _daddy-_ holy _fuck-!_ "

Lust purred, tangling his slender phalanges between Red's ribs as he shifted his weight so he could easily and consistently peg himself on Red, relentless and enthusiastic. Red bit down hard into Lust's shoulder to muffle his voice. _Fucker would have to pry that word out of him with a goddamn crowbar._

Lust cried out at the bite, holding Red's head there, gasping and shaking. "yes, oh, fucking stars, yesh, red, baby, you're doin' sho gooood~" He started slurring, salivating and keening more and more with every gyration of his hips and shift of Red's teeth. Red pulled back just long enough to bite down somewhere else, causing Lust to tighten around him like a vice. Red moaned into the bone, finally finding his release.

Lust stiffened, a high pitched, warbled, keening noise wheezing out of him as he came too, before going limp on top of Red. Red carefully pried his teeth from Lust's shoulder, licking at the exposed bone before letting his head fall back.

"holy fuck."

"yeah~"

"holy fuck..!"

"mmmhhhmm."

"yer underpaid."

Lust cackled. "says the guy who gets it free~" He cooed, shifting to snuggle against him more comfortably. "think anyone heard us?"

"if they did, i'll jus' kill 'm," Red decided out loud, closing his sockets, basking in the afterglow and the aftershocks of Lust's contentment. "don't give a fuck right now."

"cuz ya gave your last one to me~" Lust giggled.

"fuck off."

"refractory period, baby, gotta wait a bit."

"what fuckin' refractory period?!"

"yours, obviously~"

"fuck you!!"

"'k~"

Pulled into another of Lust's mind-numbing kisses, Red couldn't bring himself to care about the cold. And bonus, he certainly wasn't bored anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm starting to think that orgasm denial and red getting head are this years themes...
> 
> i'm not even sorry


	8. Day 07: Fellcest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Praise-kink; Aphrodisiacs; Incest
> 
> Pairing: Fellcest (Underfell Sans x Underfell Papyrus)
> 
> Warnings: INCEST; non-consensual drug use (target doesn't care, but it happens, so just fyi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.5k of CRAAAAAAAAAAP
> 
> its so bad i cant even think of a good chapter name
> 
> i just wanted to try writing fellcest jfc is this punishment for flying too high to the sun? i think i failed spectacularly?! like this has gotta be one of the worst drabbles i've ever written (although last years muppyrus was probably worse jfc what a train wreck pfft) and the only reason its getting published is because deadlines
> 
> feel free to skip it and come back tomorrow for something better (i hope)

There is a reason Papyrus only ever degrades and insults Sans when they are in public.

Papyrus knows it. Sans knows it. Neither one of them had any intention of letting the rest of the god-forsaken underground getting a whiff of it. It wasn't anyone's business but their own. They couldn't _afford_ to let anyone else know. There were too many ways doing so would be a disadvantage.

Sans disobeyed Papyrus at every perceived (affordable) opportunity. Papyrus screeched at him loudly about being a worthless, lazy, good-for-nothing slob. Sans either cowered before him and played the yes-man, or snarled obscenities and ran off. Alone in public, Sans switched between bitching about how Papyrus was an abusive hard-ass, and bragging about how nobody could fuck with him because he was so strong, better be on his good side if you know whats good for ya. Alone in public, Papyrus switched between bitching about how lazy and useless Sans was, and reminding people that if he would kill over something as inconsequential as Sans, imagine what he would do if they fucked with something he actually cared about?

Sometimes they had to watch each other fight for their lives, stone faced and uninterested.

Sometimes they had to fight each other.

There was a reason. It wasn't LOVE. It was love.

* * *

Papyrus finally had some time off for himself, a few weeks off while he let Undyne run the royal guard without him. He had plans to do a little around the house, cook a bit of extra food for later, and catch up on his reading.

He also wanted to try something with his brother.

Fingering the little bottle of a powerful aphrodisiac he took as payment for protection (god did he hate that system, but what could he do? it was pretty well ingrained by this point), he poured the entirety of it into his brother's mustard bottle. He then screwed the lid back on and shook it vigorously.

"what th' fucks taken so long?" Sans called from the livingroom.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, POPCORN TAKES TIME!!" Papyrus called back, looking at the timer on the microwave. He swiped a bowel from the under-the-sink shelf, and the moment the microwave beeped, he yanked it open and dumped the salty, unsavory snackfood into the bowl and headed out to the livingroom.

Sans was waiting there, his squeaky sneakers kicked off, leaving his socked feet dangling over the edge of the couch. "about fuckin' time," he grumbled, taking the offered bowl and mustard bottle.

Papyrus sat down, and without any prompting, Sans crawled into his lap and got comfortable.

The movie started, and Papyrus kept himself busy by paying attention to it, enjoying the overdramatic acting of the robot star, as well as the realistic special effects. He curled one arm around his brother's middle, letting his other one lay comfortably on the arm of the couch.

In his lap, Sans enjoyed his mustard drenched popcorn, none the wiser to Papyrus' little jape.

About halfway through the movie, Sans started to squirm. Papyrus brought the hand around his middle up, fastening Sans in place against his chest like a seatbelt. "QUIT SQUIRMING."

Sans grumbled something under his breath that might have been, "sorry, boss," and went still again. Papyrus smirked, squeezing at his brother's shoulder gently, kneading at the fragile bone beneath his ratty track suit.

After a few minutes, the squirming resumed. Papyrus carefully took hold of the popcorn, setting it on the side table so it wouldn't fall over and spill everywhere.

"boss," Sans breathed, panting heavily, his hot breath making little puffs in the comparatively colder air. "boss, somethin's wrong." He almost sounded scared. "somethin's-"

Papyrus shushed him, tugging gently on his collar. "I KNOW. THE DRUG IS TAKING EFFECT. MAGIC INTERFERENCE IS EXPECTED. AMONG OTHER THINGS..."

At this revelation, Sans relaxed a bit in his hold, the concern melting away to an unconditional trust that drove Papyrus wild. He settled back down, leaning heavily in Papyrus' arms as the drugs robbed him of most of his balance and motor skills, leaving only involuntary spasms and weak little shifting like a worm.

Papyrus spent the rest of the movie paying more attention to Sans. His brother's body temperature gradually rose until it plateaued at a feverish level. He didn't squirm, but Papyrus could feel involuntary spasms wrack his body, causing him to rattle. He occasionally let out a high pitched, pathetic whine, almost musical in its pure tone.

At the end of the movie, Papyrus flipped the TV off. He then took ahold of Sans' spine, pumping languidly. Sans sucked in a breath, throwing his head back as he fought harder not to make any noises.

"AS POLITE AS EVER. GOOD JOB, BROTHER," Papyrus murmured.

Sans flushed a vivid scarlet color. "sh-shut up!"

Papyrus snickered, picking up his brother and pinning him onto the couch under him, long ways. "BUT THEN AGAIN, DESPITE YOUR SLOVENLY TENDENCIES AND YOUR NASTY EATING HABITS, YOU ALWAYS WERE GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO. YOU'VE ALWAYS DONE A GOOD JOB."

Sans shivered, flushing harder. "damn it, boss, shut up with that sh-"

Papyrus cut Sans off with a well timed scratch along his ilia. Sans clutched at the cushions under him, breathing harder, blushing brightly, a matching glow now between his legs, showing through his shorts. Smirking, Papyrus hooked one finger over the waistband and pulled them down, revealing Sans' summoned flesh; a stiff erection and a twitching hole.

"boss-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, SANS. YOU'RE GOING TO FUCKING LISTEN TO ME TONIGHT," Papyrus growled, sliding his brother's shirt up with one hand as the other began working at his aching sex, probing carefully at the tight little hole that quivered, begging for attention. "YOU HANDLE THE WORST THIS WORLD HAS TO OFFER EVERY FUCKING DAY, YOU SHOULDER BURDEN AFTER FUCKING BURDEN, YOU PUT UP WITH MY SHIT... YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN SOMEONE I CAN RELY ON, SOMEONE TO LOOK UP TO IN A UNIVERSE FILLED WITH IMPOSSIBLE CHOICES."

Sans looked like he was about to argue, only to cut off as Papyrus thrust the first finger inside him, simultaneously teasing at his ribs. "fu-"

"AND AS IF THAT WEREN'T ENOUGH, YOU'RE FUCKING SEXY," Papyrus continued, voice going lower, more sultry. "THE ONLY TIME I SEE A MONSTER MORE GODDAMN ATTRACTIVE IS WHEN I'M LOOKING IN A FUCKING MIRROR. AND EVEN THEN, YOU STILL SOUND MUCH MORE ENCHANTING. DO YOU EVER LISTEN TO YOURSELF??"

Sans whined, his whole body glimmering with sweat, left helpless under Papyrus' physical and psychological onslaught. It was really a shame it took drugs to make him listen to Papyrus' praises, because the way he responded to them was delightful. Sans was a masterpiece like this, broken down and built back up again, glowing both literally and metaphorically. Papyrus wanted to drag this out a little longer, savor this opportunity to really let Sans know how great he was.

Adding a second finger to his brothers ass, Papyrus maintained his unhurried pace.

"boss! please, fuck, c'mon, i'm-" Sans started begging, claws twitching at his sides. If he'd been able, he'd probably be stroking himself by now.

"YES, BROTHER, YOU'RE INCREDIBLY FETCHING. YOU MEET ALL OF MY STANDARDS," Papyrus purred, enjoying how Sans' magic clenched around his phalanges as he spoke. He really would have to praise his brother more often, if he responded so well to it.

Sans let out a broken, wet noise, throwing his head from side to side uselessly as he panted and gasped. "boss-!!" Papyrus could see his length quiver and throb, clearly on the verge of climax despite not yet being touched.

"SUCH WONDERFUL NOISES YOU MAKE, LIKE THIS. YOU SHOULD SOUND LIKE THIS MORE OFTEN. BUT ONLY FOR ME. ONLY I GET TO HEAR YOU SING, BROTHER. NOBODY ELSE DESERVES TO HEAR SUCH BEAUTY." Papyrus continued, never taking his eyes of Sans' face. "AND YOU'RE SO VERY ACCOMMODATING AS WELL. SUCH A GOOD BOY. I BET IF I ASKED, YOU WOULD COME FOR ME, JUST LIKE THIS, WOULDN'T YOU? BECAUSE YOU'RE _SUCH A GOOD PET._ "

That did it. With a wretched scream, Sans came, shooting his red-tinted magic all over himself as he shuddered through the first orgasm of the night.

Even Papyrus' patience had its limits. He only had enough left to wipe his brother's face clean, and use that liquid to lube up his own erection before plunging into Sans with wild abandon. Sans gasped, eyelights rolling into the back of his head. "oh, fuck- yes-"

Papyrus braced himself on either side of Sans' head, pistoning. "OH, FUCK, YOU'RE TIGHT. SO TIGHT. AND HOT. SANS! HOW!! THE FUCK! DO YOU FEEL! THIS GOOD! EVERY!! FUCKING!! TIME!!!"

Some of the drug must have been wearing off, because Papyrus felt his brother's hands come up and claw weakly at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. "pap- pap- i'm gonna-!"

Papyrus felt Sans clench around him, and quickened his pace to bring his brother to completion properly. Sans keened with it, and the pressure of his spasming orgasm dragged Papyrus to his own end. Before he knew it, the two of them were a mess of slime and limbs, snuggled together on the couch, purring in harmony as they let themselves have this one perfect moment in the eye of their eternal storm.


	9. Day 08: Perfect Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promps: Blood/Gore; Prostitution/Sex Work; Fisting; Hate-fucking/Angry Sex
> 
> Pairing: Underlust Sans x Dusttale Sans
> 
> Warning: minor character death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone cares for context, its in the end notes.  
> otherwise take this 1.8k drabble at face value.

Kink toyed with the tie of an inebriated businessman, leading him out into the cool night air. It had been too easy to pick the poor guy out in the bar, disheveled and worn down by stress, but dressed to the nines in an expensive tailored business suit. Clearly a young, hot blooded go-getter with a lot of money and no one to share it with.

Just the kind of guy Kink needed right now.

With a flick of his wrist, and a spin on his heals, Kink had the guy pinned to the brick wall, just out of range of the nearest street lamp. He stood up on his toes, pressing into a kiss, giving the guy a little _taste_ of what he was shopping for, a free sample. From the way his scent changed, subtle but undeniable, Kink was certain he'd found a buyer.

Now he just needed to close the deal, and he'd have all he needed to make a new life in this universe. In this city. He pulled out of the kiss, slow, languid, sliding his tongue over his teeth, showing of the vibrant glow that matched his eyelights. He knew it always struck humans as beautiful. "five thousand a night. anything ya want. gender-bending cost extra."

"You can do that?" The guy asked, breathless and still a bit confused (just how Kink liked them).

"sweetie, there isn't a lot that i _can't_ do," Kink assured him, bringing one hand up to trace a line from his jaw, down his neck, over his clavicle, and then down to pull the neckline of his shirt down, just enough to reveal the crests of two (admittedly voluptuous) breasts he'd formed as a teaser.

The guy's eyes snapped down like they'd been magnetized. "How much extra?"

"another five thousand," Kink informed him casually. "so~? you in?" He emphasized his question with a shameless shift of his weight, so the new additions to his anatomy pressed into his victim's chest, demonstrating their softness.

That did it. The human gripped Kink by the shoulders, spinning them around and pinning Kink to the wall as the human felt him up, squeezing and twisting his assets with an eager roughness. Kink let him get another taste, throwing his head back, closing his sockets and enjoying the new sensation of human hands on him, feeling him, exploring. It wasn't as bad as he'd expected it to be.

Then there was a wet, squelching sound, and a cracking noise. Something wet and uncomfortably warm splashed him in the face. The smell of iron flooded his senses. The hands that had been on his body fell away, and two sickening thuds followed one after another.

Kink blinked his eyes open, only to see an eery iris glowing red and blue, menacing violet sparks wafting from it, looking back at him. He looked down see the human, sliced to pieces, now littering the alley, staining the already disgusting asphalt with his blood -- blood which, of course, had splattered all over Kink and was soaking into his favorite jacket.

"you _asshole_ ," Kink snapped at the newcomer, wiping the blood off of his teeth and flicking it off of his fingers with a certain level of revulsion. "he hadn't even paid me yet!"

"you were sellin' yourself short, anyways," Dust hummed, wiping his knife off on his shorts (gross).

"maybe its a holiday discount," Kink snapped, stripping right there in the alley, taking off his vest and shirt, now splattered with fresh blood. Kink questioned if they were even salvageable by this point, but figured if he could get them soaking fast enough he might save them.

"or maybe you're out of you mind," Dust retorted. "come back."

"no." Kink didn't even bother considering. He turned to head back inside, going to soak his clothes in the bathroom sink to get them clean.

Dust stepped over the body, grabbing Kink's arm. "come back home."

"i said no," Kink growled. "i'm not going back there. you _know_ how i feel-" He snapped his teeth shut when Dust yanked him into his arms, knife pressing to his back as a polite request not to pull away again, the blade settling perfectly between two of his lumbar disks, ready to sever his spinal column with the flick of a wrist, only the barest edge of the blade slipping between them, tickling the under rim in a way that made Kink shiver. Repressing the sudden flare of heat, Kink glared up at him, bemoaning the two inches Dust had on him in height, even in his gogo boots. He could feel his usual sly grin clenched tight into a manic sneer, so hard his jaw hurt.

Dust grinned back, even more manic, and doubly mad, his ever glowing left eye flickering and shifting as crimson and cerulean fought for domination inside. "you make it sound like i'm giving you a choice."

Kink bristled, gripping the scruff of Dust's shirt with his other hand. "you make it sound like you can stop me."

They glared at each other, their left eyelights both smoldering a slightly different violet hue. The wafting gaseous magic drifted from them, coiling around them as they both flexed their respective presence. The two forces met, and all at once it was the perfect storm, a spectrum of purple light rippling around them had there been anyone else to witness it. LOVE and LUST at their max, pressing in on each other, cracking and sparking as hot met cold and broke against each other, a hurricane of energy stirring the air and making nearby debris shake and spiral around them, turning the alley into a mess like a tornado had ripped through it.

The decapitated human's head went flying, smashing into the nearby wall and smearing brain matter against it. The rest of the body was flung into the opposite wall, and actually hit it with enough force to make a small crack in the mortar, knocking a few bricks loose, creating even more debris and gore to fling around.

Kink barely noticed, standing as he was in the eye of the storm.

"you're coming home," Dust stated like it was an infallible truth.

"that place isn't my home," Kink hissed, defiant. And it wasn't. He didn't have a home anymore. He didn't have a home or a family, and nobody gave a damn about him now. All he had left were memories and that single, stubborn, hateful sliver of HP keeping him alive.

"it is if i say it is," Dust hissed back.

"well then maybe i should make it so you can't say anything at all," Kink countered, grip on Dust's shirt tightening.

"i'd like to see you try," Dust dared, smug and infuriating and confident. Kink wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid ass grin off his stupid ass face.

Then they were kissing. Kink didn't know who it was that had moved first, but they met in the middle and they were kissing. Kink clawed at the back of Dust's skull like he was hoping to crush it in his palm, his other hand fighting for release from Dust's iron grip. The knife at his back moved with him, pinning him flush to the other, so much so Kink had to wrap one leg over Dust's ilia for balance and comfort, pressing closer as if he were hoping to crawl inside of Dust and rip him apart from the inside out.

Maybe he was. Kink didn't even know anymore. He could feel his arm straining against Dust's grip, feel how that powerful hand clenched tighter around him, trembling with the effort to keep him trapped.

Lust felt the world shift, and the lighting change. Then the knife was removed from his back and he was flung backwards, landing hard on a flat, semi-springy surface. Kink caught himself quickly with his forearms, rolling out of the way just in time to avoid being pounced on, to avoid being stabbed.

If anyone was going to do the pouncing (or the stabbing), it was Kink.

So he did, lunging forward and pinning Dust's arms to the unmade bed, biting into his clavicle with reckless abandon. He heard the other snarl above him, apparently less than amused as Kink managed to wrestle the knife away and fling it somewhere over his shoulder. Dust took his chance, using the moment when Kink tossed the knife to wrench his arms free and then toss Kink, off balanced, to one side, flipping their positions and shredding Kink's leather pants with his bare hands.

Kink struggled, making Dust work for every inch, every scrap, every little victory he thought he might gain. Somehow, though, in the flurry of flailing limbs and curses, Dust managed to pin Kink's arms over his head, his larger, stronger hands finally capturing Kink's more slender wrists one-handed. Kink struggled, kicking out in an attempt to buck him off, to keep fighting, but he timed it wrong, and Dust took the advantage, twisting Kink as he deflected a kick to pin him face down into the mattress, sitting on his legs and pulling his arms back over his head in a hold that left Kink very little room to maneuver.

Kink hadn't even realized his magic had manifested at his pelvis until he felt Dust ruthlessly start to press into him, first one finger, then two, then three. Kink bit into the dingy mattress, shaking as he was worked up into a different kind of frenzy.

Then the whole of Dust's fist pressed into him, and Kink couldn't hold back his scream, back arching as he spasmed with the rush of euphoria and adrenaline. The bony fist inside him held still at first, Dust chuckling as he watched Kink squirm on his forearm.

Then he started to move in earnest, pounding that farthest most false nerve-ending like it had insulted his brother. Kink couldn't see much beyond stars, couldn't hear much beyond his own cries, couldn't feel much beyond the way Dust was punching the heat out of him.

When he finally realized it was over, and what he was feeling was aftershocks and the pleasant, calming buzz that came along with the afterglow of a good lay, he was too tired and sore to move. Dust, uncaring of the mess, not even bothering to wash the purple slime off his arm, pulled Kink into his chest, and lay down, taking up his usual position as the big spoon.

"feelin' more reasonable now, baby?" Dust asked, voice laced with amusement, the usual madness muted to a dull ache in his melancholy smile.

"when am i not?" Kink asked, clutching weakly at the arm holding him in place, sockets fluttering shut as quickly as he could blink them open.

"when ya think its ok to run off god knows where without me," Dust huffed.

"no fair. cant argue after sex." Kink whined, snuggling closer, purring as felt Dust tighten his grip.

"aint arguin'..." Dust muttered, pressing his teeth to Kink's throat.

Kink sighed, soul fluttering warmly. This awful castle wasn't his home... but maybe this room, this bed, these arms, could be instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, context: Error destroys AUs and leaves the occasional glitched survivor behind. those survivors gather in the antivoid where its a dreamtale civil war: "Good" AUs ('tale verses, significantly less angsty places) siding with Dream, and "Bad" AUs (angst size XL) siding with Nightmare.
> 
> Theres more to it, but i'll leave that as the simple version.
> 
> Kink (an Underlust Sans) is shunned by most "good" AUs so he's not welcome on Dream's team, so he has to kinda side with Nightmare even though he has big, big reservations about his policies and methods. well Nightmare finally crossed a line and Kink decides to fuck that shit he's out.
> 
> he picks a random AU and tries to go live there.
> 
> too bad dust is kinda attached for reasons


	10. Day 09: SubSlime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscles); Bondage; Lingerie
> 
> Pairing: Rust (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: Orgasm Denial; Dom/Sub; BDSM; Praise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.2k of resonance lust having his way with red  
> the focus is different here, i think?

Lust would never get tired of this.

For maybe the tenth time that night, Lust sat back on his summoned haunches, staring at his latest masterpiece. Before him was Red, arms tied over his head and attached to the headboard of Lust's bed. The thick black blindfold still clung firmly to Red's skull, despite how violently he'd been thrashing for the last few hours. His bones sparkled with both sweat and magic peaking through from the scars and cracks in his body, making him look like he was made entirely of precious stones.

He was certainly precious to Lust.

Grinning harder, his own soul spasming and throbbing with the sheer level of want and need, Lust's gaze roamed up and down the beautiful image before him. Red's legs were tied bent at the knee, spread open and held there by straps that were attached to the ends of the bed (far easier for Lust to explore and play that way). Red didn't give the green light for traditional bondage often (it understandably had a few bad memories associated with it, things they were working through together a little at a time), so when he did, Lust had to be able to take full advantage of the honor, the trust, that his datemate placed in him.

Which, of course, meant teasing him mercilessly in every conceivable way.

Which brought Lust to where he was now, admiring the way Red squirmed and panted and purred after a few long, glorious hours of heavy petting. Red's thick, throbbing cock twitched impotently, untouched, from the confines of the black lacy underwear he was wearing (the only other thing besides his collar, his bindings, and a pair of sheer stockings that were now soaked through with sweat and clinging to his bones).

"sweetie, whats your color?" Lust asked, looming over him, careful not to touch him (again, yet).

"shut th' fuck up an' finish what ya fuckin' started ya goddamn slutbag!!" Red snarled between wet, ragged gasps, stubbornly holding on to the last few threads of normality, throwing that tough guy shield up with the desperation of a man who already knew his shield was about to crack.

Lust rolled his shoulders, flexing his presence, making the air in the room heavy and charged with the energy of his SOUL (a trick he'd learned early on would catch anyone's attention). It was a show of strength, his strength. And it had the added bonus of driving his baby absolutely crazy. Red went still under him, involuntary shudders running up and down his spine as his cock strained even harder against its silken prison. _Stars he was so beautiful like this, needy and honest despite himself. Lust loved him so fucking much, it hurt._ "sweetheart~ what did i ask you to call me when we were alone~?"

When all Lust got back was a furtive, pleading whine, he let up on the magic pressure, surging forward and cupping Red's face in his hands. "sweetheart? color. whats your color?"

Red leaned into his hand, still panting heavily, shaking even as he sagged in his bindings like his strings had been cut. "......orange..." came a low mumble.

Lust let out a breath he'd been holding, relief flooding him in a flash wave. Orange meant it was okay to move. It still concerned him that Red had just... gone nonverbal all of a sudden. This was new. Usually Red was either cussing up a storm or growling because he didn't _want_ to talk. That whine was _new_.

Lust decided to move carefully. If this was Red's version of subspace, he needed to be a bit more careful. He had no idea what Red was going to be like like this, how much information he'd give voluntarily, or how often Lust needed to probe.

Red's steady, pervasive purring still range through the air, another good sign that everything was still okay.

"what did i ask you to call me when we're alone?" Lust asked again, keeping his voice soft, gentle.

"sweetheart. 'r daddy," Red answered, still low, between ragged panting.

Lust leaned in for a kiss, purring himself when he tasted Red's magic. Pulling out of the kiss, Lust nuzzled Red's skull. "thats right, baby. you're doing so good," He praised, his SOUL sparking with delight and joy at seeing how Red flushed brightly at the positive reinforcement. But Red's coloration was different... Now, along with the beautiful crimson hue he'd come to adore, there were shades of green.

_Giftmas came early this year._

Lust lost it for a moment, overcome with so much affection and adoration that he couldn't fight the sudden impulse to lavish his datemate with it all: kissing, licking, biting, scratching (both inside and out), Lust targeted every one of the spots he knew made Red feel good with laser accuracy. Red again let out that whining noise, which, as Lust persisted, devolved into a broken moan. His purring grew louder, and his squirming more violent, but Lust could see tension bleeding out of him in ways he'd been unable to get it to before.

"how does this feel, baby?" Lust asked, slowing down with some gentle fondling of Red's lumbar vertebrae and xiphoid process. "how do you feel?"

"good," Red answered, still soft, like a whisper, and just as fragile, but full and clear. "safe. l- lo-" he seemed to have trouble voicing the last word, mewling piteously with each failed attempt.

Lust giggled, taking pity on him. Another kiss wiped away Red's growing distress, another nuzzle got him to relax further. "i love you too, sweetheart," Lust assured him. He kissed Red again, distracting him as Lust sent one hand down to free Red's long aching sex from its silky prison, massaging at the false flesh that burned feverishly in his hand. Red cried out, shameless in his defenseless state, trying to buck into his palm and get that long awaited friction. Lust shifted, lining himself up over Red's length, and carefully lowed himself down onto him.

Lust couldn't tell if it was him screaming or Red, but for the next few moments, Lust's mind was a whitewash of buzzing static and pleasure. He felt dizzy with it, consumed by it. It was difficult not to just ride that condensed package of energy and heat and affection with reckless abandon. Lust made sure to hold still until he could think straight, not letting himself lose control when Red had already given up his.

"oh, stars, baby, you feel so good... you're so good... color??" Lust asked, his body rattling with how much he wanted to continue.

"o-orange."

Gripping onto the headboard, Lust started working his hips viciously, unforgiving and merciless in his pace. He threw his head back for a moment, but almost immediately snapped it forward again so he could watch his lover. Red was a mess, sweaty and shaking and making noises that he would most certainly be ashamed of when he came back to himself, green tears slipping from under the blindfold even as pink saliva dribbled down his jaw.

Neither one of them lasted long, Red reaching his climax with a broken sob. Lust followed shortly after, decorating his lover in his own lavender coloration, leaving him a glittering rainbow.

Lust took a moment to catch his breath, feeling drained but utterly satisfied. He pulled away from Red, then carefully started to undo the bondage, stretching Red's limbs out to something more comfortable as he arranged him on the bed. He tried to leave, to get a towel to at least attempt cleaning up, but Red made another piteous noise at such bereavement, and Lust couldn't bring himself to be so cruel.

Cuddling up to Red, uncaring of the mess, Lust shushed him, whispering soft praises and affirmations of love, massaging at his no doubt sore joints. He'd have to have a talk with Red about this later, about what this obviously meant and about the limits they would need to set. But, for now, Lust was content to wallow in their mutual love slime and tell his sweetheart all the things he needed to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this kinda goes off the rails a bit, turning into more of an exploratory piece about Resonance Red's first time entering subspace, and how Lust handles it.
> 
> As a cover of whats going on on Red's side: he's helpless, blind, hyper-focused on all the noises Lust is making (which are hot), overstimulated from the unrelenting affection that never actually makes it to his formed magic, pressed upon by an overwhelming desire to come but hindered by pride from asking for it, and on top of it all he's being overwhelmed by the strong feelings of _love_ and other related emotions echoing to him from the collar. Red tries to tread water but eventually gets sucked under and suddenly all his tension falls away because nothing matters except that he feels good and his mate feels good and they are both safe.
> 
> bonus: in this state, he has no fear of being hurt, so his LV doesnt have anything to cling to/rally against, making it largely inert, so his natural alignment to KINDNESS shines right through
> 
> He's gonna be super embarrassed and humiliated and ashamed and PISSED THE FUCK OFF when he comes out of it (and Lust anticipates that reaction) but given his addictive personality he's probably gonna wanna go there again because its nice to have a moment where he isn't choking on his own self deprecation and LV


	11. Day 10: The Taste of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Micro/Macro; Bonds (Telepathic or Empathic)
> 
> Pairing: Krumping (Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: Dom/Sub, Orgasm Denial, Cock Worship, Praise, Fellatio

Dance stumbled through a shortcut into the apartment, sighing as he rolled one of his shoulders which was particularly sore. He felt like SOUL had been dipped into a melting pot of all the awful things in the world; sadness, anger, fear, worry, confusion, annoyance, and a few experiences he couldn't even put a name to. He was looking forward to draining himself of all of that, holding his boyfriend Lust close and reveling in the warmth and _reassurance_ and _affection_ he naturally exuded.

Instead, what he found was Red, lounging on their large shared bed, reading glasses taped to his skull as he busied himself with a paperback book (one of what looked to be many in a messy pile to one side). His skull was flushed a pretty pink color, eyelight jumping rapidly as he soaked in the contents of the page.

Dance had completely forgotten: Lust was having a sleepover with his brother and some of their friends. He wouldn't be home tonight.

That meant he and Red would be alone...

And either Dance was pent up, or Red was feeling particularly wound up, because Dance was becoming more and more aware of a particular _need_ for intimacy.

"what are ya reading?" Dance asked, figuring he should be the one to break the metaphorical ice.

Red bristled, tensing, and Dance was hit with a wall of _panic_ and _shame_ (and _wow_ was it hard to remember that those weren't _his_ feelings even though they also kinda _were_ on a quantum level). "nothin'," Red snapped out angrily (in order to hid his internal alarm, which was still giving Dance the jitters), slamming his book shut and stuffing it into the messy pile which he quickly moved to hide behind his body. "ain't nothin' important. not interestin' at all."

Dance breathed deeply, fighting down his own instincts screaming to _hide_. He closed the distance between them, taking hold of one of Red's claws. "calm down. theres nothing to be ashamed of." He felt Red flinch at the word, but soon enough the _shame_ and _panic_ receded to something more manageable, overlapping a steady thrum of _trust_. Dance relaxed his guard, squeezing Red's hand trice in thanks. _Trust_ was much easier to handle.

Red averted his gaze, his face tinting a slightly deeper hue as he carefully removed his glasses and set them on the side table. "it ain't bad. nothin' wrong with it. don't judge me-"

"i don't even know what it is yet, bonehead," Dance reminded him, trying to cut off that feeling of _panic_. "whats got you so defensive?"

Red furrowed his brow, thinking about it. There was another pulse of _trust_ , and then Red shifted to let Dance see the books behind him. "i just like 'm, a'aight? ain't weird."

Dance picked up one of the books. Turning it in his hand, he realized it was a cheesy romance novel, the kind you would usually find in the bargain bin at old bookstores. Some of it was victorian era, some of it was modern, some of it was slice of life, and no small amount of them contained mythical creatures. The amusement bubbling up inside him was most definitely his own. Dance couldn't help his laughter.

"whats so fuckin' funny?!" Red demanded, _embarrassment_ emanating from him in waves, even if his growing blush wasn't a dead giveaway.

"there's nothing wrong with liking what you like, ok?" Dance premised. "its just, i'll never get over how a big scary hitman like you ended up being such a- a-"

"a what?!" Red demanded irritably.

Dance put the book down, sliding into Red's lap, straddling his legs and looping his arms around his neck. Dance pressed his teeth to Red's, silencing the growl that had been building in Red's ribcage. Red responded by wrapping his arms around Dance, steadying him and holding him close. Dance was suddenly drowning in _affection_ , _relief_ , _contentment_ , and an undercurrent of _territorial possessiveness_ that Dance could never be sure who it truly belonged to. Pulling back enough to look the other in the face, a smirk tugging at his teeth, Dance answered, "such a dork."

Red huffed, looking away with an annoyed scowl that Dance now knew was his version of pouting. The _embarrassment_ returned, but the _contentment_ and _affection_ didn't waver.

Dance took a moment to just soak it up, breathing in the scent of sweat and watermelon and leather as he rested his skull against his datemate's. "ok... now... put your books away and lay down for me," he said firmly, fully intending and expecting obedience.

Red raised a brow ridge, _confusion_ written all over his face. He shrugged, snapping his fingers and quickly whisking the books off the bed (and into a neat little stack by the far wall) with a bit of BLUE magic (though the magic itself glowed scarlet). He then picked Dance up (and wasn't that supposed to be alarming, how easy it was for Red to just move him around? funny how it didn't bother Dance in the least), slid to the middle of the bed, and laid back so his head was cushioned on one of the pillows. "like this?" he asked, still _confused_ , but now mildly _amused_ as he looked up at Dance, uncaring of the compromising position they were in as he settled his hands on Dance's hips.

Dance smirked, gripping Red's wrists and pulling them away from him. "put these over your head for me, and don't move them," he ordered. "and you remember your safeword, right?"

Crimson light shone brilliantly from Red's maxilla and nasal ridge at Dance's words. _Excitement_ , _embarrassment_ , and _nervousness_ lit up twinkling flashes of a lighter color in his eyelight as he obligingly did as he was instructed, settling his claws over his head, between his skull and the headboard, one gripping the wrist of the other. "yeah..."

Dance nodded, making sure to keep eye contact as he gripped the hem of Red's ratty shirt (he still needed to stage another intervention about Red's clothing quality) and slowly, carefully rolled it up until Red's ribcage was exposed. He found a decent midway point in the fabric, holding it up to Red's teeth. "keep hold of this for me, and don't let go unless you need to use your safeword, ok kitten?"

Red nodded, slowly parting his razor teeth and taking the fabric, careful not to catch Dance's fingers with the motion. Dance grinned wider, scooting up enough that he could lean in and press his frontal bone to Red's. He wanted Red to hold his shirt up for two main reasons: one, because he wasn't going to miss the lightshow if he could help it; and two, because it kept Red's mouth occupied, so he wouldn't talk over the other glorious noises Dance planed on coaxing out of him. As an added bonus, it was another thing he could have Red 'do for him', and the spark of _pride_ that Red let off when he succeeded in 'doing something for them', and even more when he was praised for it, was downright _intoxicating_.

Dance was so glad he and Lust had learned that little trick so early on.

Dance lingered there, one hand stroking Red's skull, tracing the last lingering hairline fractures from a head-wound he'd suffered. He drank in the feeling of _trust_ and _affection_ and _pride_ , as well as the swelling _resolution_. Dance could see Red's claws twitching above his head, eager to come down and grip Dance and hold him close and safe. But they did not move from their spot, because Dance had told Red not to move them, and Red was doing what he was told; and _holy shit, if that didn't give Dance the biggest rush_ , seeing a monster like Red, who could snap him in half, obeying his every command, indulging his every whim, doing it _for him_ because he felt what Dance wanted _mattered_...

It only made Dance want to see it more.

Dance slid down, ghosting his fingers reverently over the many chips and scars on Red's bones. He thumbed a particularly large one, earning him an appreciative groan from his datemate. Dance considered lingering, exploring, but decided to leave that for another night. Right now, he wanted to help himself to another guilty pleasure. He slid down further, nudging Red's legs to either side so he could sit between them. He looked the monster before him up and down: taking in the way the pink tinted sweat made him shimmer; how his ribcage expanded and contracted, palpations synced with his rising _excitement_. Dance ran two fingers down Red's spine, from his false ribs to his sacrum, enjoying the full body shiver it earned him. "ok, kitten, now bring out your magic for me," he murmured, eyelights not leaving Red's.

Soon there was a ruby glow coming from Red's shorts. The scent of watermelon permeated the air. Dance pulled down the waistband of Red's shorts, swallowing an appreciative noise of his own at the sight of that long, thick device made just for him. He gripped it with one hand, his magic warming at the way Red responded, hips twitching in tandem with a muffled grunt of surprise. Dance put his other hand on Red's femur, kneading at the bone, feeling around until he found the scar he knew was there and thumbed at it absently. "can ya purr for me, kitten?" He asked, squeezing gently at the base of Red's member, watching with anticipation of his own as a beed of crimson liquid welled at the tip.

Red shivered under him, squirming in his hold. Dance licked at the head of his shaft, drinking in the pre that had begun to flow freely, tasting watermelon and salt and sunlight, tasting safety and reassurance and a promise to never be alone. He pressed his teeth to the heated pseudoflesh, feeling even more acutely the _trust_ and _embarrassment_ and _resolution_ coming from his datemate, along with the undercurrents of _comfort_ and _solace_. Red's sockets fluttered shut, and before long that tremulous, deep purr that Dance had loved from the beginning roared to life, the vibrations traveling throughout Red's body, letting Dance feel it at every point of contact.

Dance sighed. "good kitten," he praised, shivering at the spark of _happiness_ that earned him.

With the ambiance now perfect, Dance finally let himself indulge. He took Red's dick into his mouth, curling his tongue around the circumference and pumping it with reckless abandon, trying to wring every drop of that sinful liquid out of him. Red continued to purr, but overlaid with that were tremulous whines and muffled moans and screams that sent wave after wave of electricity up and down Dance's spine. Coupled with that was the taste, of watermelon and sunlight and winter, of protection, of salvation, that filled Dance's skull with a blissful static, crowding out all the stress and distress that had accumulated throughout the day. Dance outright moaned at the effect, bobbing his head in a steady rhythm as he let himself forget everything except how good it felt to be here, doing this, making someone he loved feel just as good.

Dance was drowning in _trust_ and _affection_ and choking on watermelon and sunlight and he couldn't think of anything else he'd rather be doing (partially because thinking was rather difficult when he was being smothered in so many good things). Purring and those sinful whimpers filled the air, lulling Dance into a trance he was loathed to pull out of. His own SOUL was throbbing, shaky and hot, in his core, swelling with so many _good_ emotions and sensations Dance was certain it would burst at any moment.

The gradual elevation in pitch in Red's voice, as well as the urgency, eventually drew Dance from his comfortable haze. He focused his eyelights, and found his whole body going ridged as his SOUL exploded with euphoria at the sight before him: Red was a shimmering artwork of spiderwebbing light, gradations going from brilliant ruby hues, to dazzling golds, to sparkling emeralds, shifting and roiling like streams of sunlight peaking from below the surface of the ocean, like the ever changing aurora in the ever-winter skies. Dance pulled his mouth away, finding even Red's dick had become a swirl of colors, green and red fighting for domination in a graceful swirls, separated by lines of molten gold, on top of which clung a thin layer of Dance's own cerulean saliva.

Captured by the urge to save this moment in time forever; he whipped out his phone from his hoodie pocket and snapped a picture faster than he ever had in his life. When he looked down to admire the memory now frozen in time, he realized what had Red so worked up- it had been over an hour since they'd started.

Dance pocketed the phone, grinning dumbly at his kitten (his, and Lust's, and nobody else's). "guess it's been long enough huh? hold on, i gotcha..." He leaned back in, sucking Red's magic down one last time, taking his whole length down his summoned throat, swallowing around the shaft so his own pseudoflesh squeezed and quivered tightly around him. The taste had him moaning, and thankfully that was enough to bring Red off to completion.

 _Relief. Joy. Happiness. Contentment. Affection. Love. Gratitude._ Dance quickly lost track of where his feelings ended and Red's began, his world a symphony of the two of them.

Dance almost gagged on the sudden onslaught of thick liquid magic, hot and cold at the same time, tasting of watermelon and smoke and salt. He drank down as much as he could (which was most of it), though a thin trickle still ended up leaking from between his teeth. Dance swallowed a few more times, pressing his teeth lightly into the false skin, making certain Red had given all he had, before slowly, carefully pulling himself off of him, and tucking the tender organ back into Red's shorts.

Red, drenched in sweat, shaking and shimmering and gasping for air he didn't need, was barley conscious. Dance climbed back up, cupping Red's face with one hand, and as he licked his own teeth clean, gently tugged the other's shirt out of his mouth. Red blinked up at him, his single eyelight flickering between gold and green and red until settling on that familiar muddy red-brown, unfocused and hazy. Dance took one of Red's claws and pulled it down to his side, wordlessly letting him know there was no more need to keep them there.

Red immediately scooped Dance up in his arms, rolling to one side and pulling him close, drifting off into a blissful, well deserved sleep. Dance shifted in his arms, getting comfortable and clinging to the front of Red's now-damp shirt.

Coming home to this, to someone who could make the worse seem like a distant memory, made it all worth while.

~~Now if only Lust was home, too...~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another scene that i might have to make burlesque canon...
> 
> (this is probably this red's first subspace too but dance has no idea what it is or what he needs to do for it)


	12. Day 11: What Works For You (Pt 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Object Insertion; Sounding; Cross-dressing
> 
> Pairing: Rust (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: Heat; Teasing; Biting;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.2k of basically the same shit i've chucked out over the last week tbh

Red was at his desk in their shared apartment, the desk Lust and Dance had insisted on getting so he could work more easily from home. Or, at least, that was what they _said_ the reason was.

In reality, Red suspects they just like having him closer so they can interrupt more easily.

Like Lust was just about to do, as Red could feel him enter the room from behind. "sweetheart, ya can't sneak up on me, i always know where ya are," Red rumbled without looking up from the tests he was grading. They were multiple choice tests, so it was faster going than any essays would have been.

"not really trying to sneak," Lust hummed, throwing his arms around Red's neck from behind, hooking his chin over his shoulder. "are you close to finishing?" He asked, nuzzling closer.

Red brought up the hand that wasn't holding his Pen of Failure, absently stroking at Lust's cheek with his knuckles as he worked. He felt the way Lust's bones were feverish. "maybe halfway..." he admitted.

Lust tightened his grip, breathing steady, rhythmically, _deliberately_. "ok... do you mind if it stay in here with you?" He asked, soft, hesitant.

Red carefully put his pen down, before turning in his swivel chair. He froze a moment, looking at Lust finally: Lust was wearing one of those skimpy dance club dresses, the ones that fit snug on the body and accentuated any curves beneath. Lust filled it out nicely with his magic. The fabric was a vivid crimson.

Red shook himself, swallowing back the rapidly pooling saliva in his mouth. "c'mere..." he ordered, patting his lap.

Lust obeyed with delighted eagerness, settling between Red's legs with a contented sigh. Red sat there and held him, hands exploring up and down his body, feeling the hard planes of his bones and the softer give of his magic through the silky fabric.

"yer not feelin' too good t'night, huh, sweetheart?" Red asked softly, noting how much warmer Lust was than usual.

"better with you here," Lust admitted, sockets drifting shut. "'m sorry... i know you're busy..."

Red snorted, carefully bunching the dress up, hiking it over Lust's hips and exposing his already summoned length, which had been covered in a condom to catch the alarming amount of pre welling from it. Red rubbed gently at the uncovered base with the flat of one claw, smirking at the way his datemate's body jolted from just that little bit of stimulus, going rigid in his hold and rolling his head back with an expression of unimaginable relief. "i keep tellin' ya, i'm here if ya need me. damn, though, never seen ya this needy 'fore even bein' touched..." He started to carefully pull off the condom, a plan already forming in his head of how to keep his lover occupied while he worked.

"you just being close... it usually helps," Lust admitted. "but i- sometimes it just flares up, even if you help..." He seemed to be focusing on keeping his breathing even, artificially so. Red could only guess it was a technique he used to make whatever discomfort he was in more manageable.

"me touchin' ya help, sweetheart?" Red asked, finally getting the condom off. Tying it off, he tossed it in the waste basket. Then he let his non-dominant hand slide over the fevered pseudoflesh, fascinated by how eagerly and positively Lust responded, moaning and pressing into his hand. Red chuckled. "well fuck, how 'm i s'posed t' leave ya hangin' like this? dressed up all nice fer me, needy 'n shit..." He grinned wider. "guess nows a good time t' give ya that present i got..."

"present..?" Lust asked, eyes closed as he rested his skull on Red's shoulder, panting.

Red flexed the finger of his dominant hand, using BLUE magic to open one of his desk drawers and pull out a long, felt covered box. He flicked it open to show what looked like a grenade pin, except it was longer, thinner, and ribbed at irregular intervals. "know what this is, sweetheart?" Red almost purred. Lust looked down at it. He blinked twice, before his face flushed a vivid amethyst and his dick spasmed excitedly in Red's hand. Red laughed, soft and triumphant, picking up the toy and spinning it between his fingers in front of his lover's face. "guess ya do."

Without much more preamble, Red took the sounding rod and started to work it, careful and slow, into the slit at the head of Lust's dick. Lust held very still (or as still as he could manage, given ever so often either his affliction or the attention Red was paying to him sent a full body shudder through his delicate frame), whimpering and mewling, the occasional gasp and delicious plea of Red's name escaping him. With each centimeter the rod sank into, Lust's noises became louder, his breathing more erratic. Lust gripped onto Red's leg with one hand, and his wrist with the other. Red paused, waiting for if Lust would try to pull away, but he never did.

Soon the rod was sunk into Lust's shaft, right up to the ring hook. Lust was a shaking, panting mess, his magic pulsing and throbbing and hot in Red's hand, feeling bigger than before.

Red chuckled, stroking along the soft, hot surface, reveling in how Lust squirmed, how he pressed himself into Red's chest and hid his face and screamed, clutching onto him as if he were afraid he would disappear. Red used his now free dominant hand to rub at his lover's back. "i gotcha, sweetheart. just a little something t' keep ya occupied while i finish work..."

Lust nodded, nuzzling, purring softly even as overstimulated tears cascaded from his sockets and saliva leaked from between his teeth.

Knowing that this would hardly keep Lust's mind off of his problem for very long, Red decided he had to improvise. He cast a careful look over his desk, before spotting one of his many novelty pens. Feeling mischievous, Red snatched it and began to prod at Lust's puckered entrance with the rounded end, careful to give Lust time to accommodate the expectant intrusion. Lust, for his part, seemed to relax even further into Red's arms, mewling wordlessly. It wasn't long at all before Red had nearly half of the pen sheathed in him, and Red could feel the strength of the false muscles trying to pull it in deeper.

"red- oh, fuck, please- please-" Lust gasped, spreading his legs wider, hooking them over Red's knees and squirming. Red shushed him with a kiss, gripping the pen firmly with his non-dominant hand and starting to pump it, in and out, slow and easy. He wanted to give Lust enough to keep him comfortable, but not enough to overwhelm him. It took Red a bit of trial and error before he found just the right pace, the one that had Lust going boneless (metaphorically) in his lap, sockets shut as his entire world shifted to how good it felt to be taken care of.

"this help, sweetheart? can ya last like this while i finish?" Red asked, nipping gently at Lust's jawline. Lust let out a wordless, almost guttural confirmation. Red snickered. "thats my good pet... when i'm done with these borin' ol' papers, we'll really take care o' ya. hows that sound, hmm?"

Lust moaned, reaching one arm up to cling to Red's collar for support, his other arm clutching desperately to Red's femur. "yes- oh, god, yes, please~" He mewled, throwing his head back again as he worked his hips along with Red's hand.

"'god's so formal," Red murmured, amusement and satisfaction curling his grin into a smug smirk. His crusty, black soul fluttered warmly at being able to help even this little bit. Pulling himself, chair and all, closer to the desk, he again picked up his Pen of Failure with his dominant hand and returned to work grading the tests. "'red' works fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2 tomorrow


	13. Day 12: What Works For You (Pt 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Licking; Rimming/Analingus
> 
> Pairing: Rust (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: Heat; Teasing; Biting; Sounding, rough sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~1.8k  
> Same shit different day~

Lust couldn't help paying acute attention to the size of the pile of tests Red was grading. Every time Red finished with one, and put it in the 'graded' pile, Lust felt his soul quiver just that little bit harder.

Red's energy chased away the worst of his affliction but it was just one of those days, and Lust was grateful for even this much attention, which took the edge off and made it at least a pleasurable kind of suffering. He still couldn't wait for Red to finish, for this part to end and what was next to begin.

Still, Lust wouldn't lie: the drag of the oversized pen in his ass, the pressure building up thanks to the sounding rod, the steady chill at his back, the occasional nibble or bite or kiss Red would apply to his clavicle, it was all amazing.

"last one, sweetheart," Red assured him, his deep gravelly voice smoothed out by affection and the undertones of his own desire. Lust whined, turning his head just enough to bury his face in Red's shoulder, nuzzling. It would never be soon enough, but Lust would be patient. Red was more than worth a little patience.

Even if every speck of dust in his body was burning and crying out to smother himself in his datemate.

At long last, the final test was graded. Red put his favorite red ink pen down and gripped Lust's shaft with his now free hand, rubbing deliciously, the blade of his claws dragging just right over the tense pseudoflesh. As he did, he pulled the pen entirely out of Lust to set it aside, sending another rush of euphoria through Lust, another orgasm denied. Lust keened with it, loud to his own hearing.

A low, rumbling chuckle dominated his senses, helping him focus through the dizziness. Red scooped him up, cradling Lust with ease in his arms and shortcutting to their shared bed. Red then pinned Lust under him, pressing into a possessive kiss that stole what little breath Lust had managed to catch. The taste of mustard and watermelon and smoke filled his skull, making it hard to think of anything except how much he was enjoying every moment.

"fuck, yer so goddamn amazin'," Red rumbled, pulling away to admire Lust, unfettered devotion and awe in both his voice and expression. Lust felt that soft, comforting warmth in his soul he now knew was love, and it only made his body's physical needs all the stronger.

Red cupped at Lust's face, thumbing his teeth, as Lust fought to keep his breathing even, to keep sane. Lust nuzzled into his palm, sighing gratefully at the feel of those cool bones against his feverish ones. _Fuck, Red made everything better. How did he survive without him?_

"look at'cha," Red purred, his other hand sliding behind Lust to unzip the dress, letting Lust shimmy his shoulders and arms out of it and leave it bunched around his lumbar, exposing his ribs to Red's reverent touch. "yer a fuckin' treasure."

Lust felt his face warm even more. "sweetie, please, i'm already-"

"i know yer ready fer me, sweetheart," red interrupted, looming over him, their frontal bones touching in that benign, intimate gesture that always seemed to help calm Lust down. He shivered, feeling how Red was now easing the little red number off of him, down his legs until he could toss it haphazardly to off the bed, leaving Lust naked save for his collar and the sounding rod. "yer always ready fer me, ya beautiful fuckin' slut. ready fer me t' wreck ya, t' make ya see stars 'n question th' existence ov'a high'r power. 'n guess what?" He licked a line up Lust's sternum, making Lust see white for a moment as he was hit with another wave of white-hot bliss. "i'm always ready t' make ya scream fer me. 'n imma have a good time doin' it."

Lust quivered, reaching up to wrap his arms around Red's neck and pull him into another kiss. _Stars, he was such a masochist, dragging this out as he was, but who could blame him?_ Lust wanted to savor every moment, commit every sound, touch, taste to memory. And bonus, the harder he came, the faster this particularly nasty little heat wave would die down. The teasing was probably in his best interest.

Lust wondered if Red knew that, or just liked to see Lust sweaty and panting and crying his name. He supposed it didn't matter either way, but given the look in Red's sockets, he thought maybe it was both. He could taste that Red was far from done with him.

Red licked at Lust's teeth, pulling away before Lust could tug him into a proper kiss. "heh. damn sweetheart, yer sweatin' like nobody's business. gotta be uncomfortable..." His eyelight sparkled with that sadistic mischief that sent Lust's soul pumping. "can't go leavin' my pet uncomfortable, can i?"

With that, Red started licking at every surface he could reach. Lust clawed at his skull, shuddering hard as his already sensitive bones were assaulted with both the most soothing balm to their vicious burning, and another spark to the arousal that had maxed out a long time ago. "r-red! r-red, sweetie, o-oh-! _nNnHhnmff-!!_ oh _god-!_ " Lust heard himself stammer, babbling. He heard Red's victorious snickering, felt his sinful tongue lap up is sweat as he crept lower and lower, slithering down until his face was level with Lust's pelvis, and that tongue had the audacity to slather Lust's already agonizingly stiff dick. For a moment, Lust was sure he blacked out, stars lighting across his vision.

Then he felt Red scoop up his hips, and raise them a bit. Lust blinked, dizzy and a bit confused at the act, until he felt that cold, damp, delightful tongue prod at his twitching, puckered, abused entrance. It was a balm to the hot, aching pseudoflesh, but only coaxed the fire in his soul ever higher. Lust screamed, squirming, bucking up as he clutched the sheets under him for dear life, riding that high as an orgasm ripped through him, dry and unsatisfying but still electrifying, sending his senses into overdrive even as his skull rang with a pure tone and his vision fuzzed out entirely.

As Lust came down from it, shaking loud enough to rattle his bones, he felt Red pull the sounding rod out, slow and blissful. It came free with a wet pop, dripping in lavender slime that began to leek freely from the now stretched hole, sending a tingling flash through Lust at the sudden freedom without stimuli to take advantage of it.

"ya ever look at yerself like this?" Red asked, setting the rod aside and crawling back up to loom over him, grin predatory and salacious. "yer a fuckin' national treasure. museum grade shit right here. i'd fuckin' crash that precious stone industry overnight if i try t' sell ya off. so tell me somethin'," Red's voice went lower, and it was then that Lust felt the first hesitant probe of something at his hole, something hot and pulsing with magic like a winter wind on a hot summer day. "how th' fuck am i s'posted t' justify wearin' a fifteen pound diamond on my dick?"

Lust shivered, clutching at Red's shirt (which was still annoyingly in place, getting between him and the glorious, sensitive bones of his datemate). "because i need you, oh, please, red, sweetheart, _fuck me_ , i-" his words cut off to a scream as Red thrust into him, sinking to the hilt in one fluid motion.

All at once, Red went rigid, his confident demeanor straining against his own overwhelming pleasure. Lust purred, watching his lover fight a losing battle with his own _lustful_ need. Red was certainly a dominating personality, but he was also incredibly sensitive, and even a little bit of stimuli was enough to have him melting.

This was when it was Lust's turn to take over. He reached up, pulling Red into another kiss, loving the new, added feeling of desperation in his lover's attentions. Lust took control of the kiss, twisting his tongue with Red's and curling it just right to drag out a moan from his lover. Red melted into him, the shift in his weight sinking him deeper into Lust. _Stars it was like having his cake and eating it too. Red was just so fucking perfect._

Now for the finishing touch... Lust let him pull out of the kiss, trembling at how clearly breathless it had left them both. "red~ please~ don't stop~" Lust mewled. He didn't having to pretend at all how much he wanted it, needed it, _crave it_. All he had to do was vocalize it. Red's first and foremost response was always to give him what he wanted.

And _dear fucking gods_ did Red deliver. All at once, Red's hips were moving like a jackhammer, battering at Lust's inner magic with enough force to bring the most satisfying ache. With a subtle little tug, Lust had Red hiding his face in Lust's shoulder. Lust clung to him, sobbing with relief as his magic was put through its paces, ravaged by a near-mindless force of nature unleashed for the sole purpose of giving him pleasure.

"yes, oh, fuck, yes~ so good~ you're sho good, oh, shit, yes-!" Lust didn't censor himself, knowing every little praise would spur Red on. With another subtle little clench of his false muscles, Red was moaning. A few more thrusts, and Lust came, coating them both in his release, sobbing with the relief of it, screaming it.

Red clamped his teeth down on Lust's shoulder, hard, and the delicious pain sent Lust through another, equally brutal climax. His skull rang, his vision whited out, his SOUL felt like it would shake itself to pieces. Lust was drowning in pleasure, and to his unfettered delight, _Red wasn't stopping_.

It might have had something to do with Lust's begging him not to. Red was always so obliging. Lust loved him so much, he was _so good to him, he felt so good, he loved him-_

Red came hard, filling Lust with his essence, his hips finally stuttering to a stop. The sensation had Lust cresting another end, clinging to his lover tight enough to leave bruises in the bone. Then Red went limp, his jaws unclenching, his ragged breathing leveling out to something slower as his magic dissipated, leaving Lust empty.

Purring, Lust carefully untangled the two of them, looking his lover over. Red was as much of a mess as Lust was, clothes clinging to him, stained purple and crimson in various places. Lust smiled, pulling him close again, nuzzling and petting and kissing his skull. The heat in his body faded with each aftershock, leaving Lust in a haze of blissful contentment.

Red's arms naturally curled around his midriff, and he nuzzled into Lust's ribs.

Lust once more contemplated just how he got so lucky as he drifted into blissful oblivion, clutching Red's skull to his chest as he himself was cuddled like a treasure by one of the people he treasured most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a slut for Power Bottom Lust and Service Top Red who tries so hard to be a dom but he can't hold it together... can you tell?


	14. Day 13: Annoying Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Distant/Distracted Sex; Gags; Creampie
> 
> Pairing: Undertale Papyrus x Swapfell Papyrus
> 
> Other Tags: Spanking; Orgasm Denial; Bondage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~2k of more papcest. which i probably got wrong? eh. i tried.
> 
> Undertale Papyrus = Rus  
> Swapfell Papyrus = Mutt

Mutt shivered with anticipation. It had taken a lot of convincing to get Rus on board with this. Many days and nights of Mutt scrounging up the courage to ask, and even many more days and nights of going over safety protocols and testing and re-testing all of the toys, had finally culminated into this: the night Rus was finally, _finally_ going to do some BDSM play with him.

Rus was carefully attaching the cuffs to Mutt's wrists, fastening them behind his back as he knelt prostrate on the bed, trembling with excitement. Mutt had already been gagged, otherwise he'd be begging for him to hurry up. He'd summoned a pussy (feeling more feminine that day, perhaps because of how excited he was to finally have Rus hold him down and ravage him stupid), and it was already dripping lewdly to the sheets between his legs, staining them a pale blood-orange.

Rus finished the last buckle, and shifted his weight, leaning over Mutt from behind and nuzzling his skull. "ARE YOU STILL COMFORTABLE??" Mutt nodded enthusiastically, not wanting to give his datemate a single reason to doubt. "YOU REMEMBER YOUR TAP OUT??" Mutt nodded again, nuzzling Rus back. Rus chuckled, petting gently at his skull, the feel of his red wool gloves oddly soothing and ticklish. "ALRIGHT THEN. I WILL BEGIN!!" He leaned back, putting his full weight on his knees as he posed dramatically. "PREPARE TO BE THOROUGHLY FORNICATED!!! WITH ONLY THE VERY BEST OF SEXUAL AND ROMANTIC GRATIFICATION!!! BY NONE OTHER!! THAN THE GREAT PAPYRUS!!! NYEH HEH HEH!!!"

If Mutt hadn't already experienced first hand the seriousness of such an outlandish warning, he would have laughed. As it was, Rus had a very good reason for his self proclaimed title of 'Great'. That reason came in two parts, one of which was the size of the magical construct which Rus always seemed to default to; a gargantuan 6-inch shaft with just the right amount of curve to hit all the best spots, which Mutt could already feel rubbing deliciously at his sopping folds, lubing itself and preparing to fill him to the brim. Mutt ground back shamelessly into him, whining like his namesake.

Rus snickered, and Mutt could feel his large, powerful hands grip his narrow hips firmly, keeping him from moving even a millimeter in any direction. "PLEASE DO TAKE CARE NOT TO SQUIRM TOO MUCH, MY TITILLATING TRIST! I WOULD HATE FOR MY PROFOUND MASCULINITY TO DO YOU UNNECESSARY HARM!!"

Mutt was certainly glad for the gag now, because he couldn't keep from laughing. Stars, Rus was amazing in so many ways. It was just _so hard_ to take him seriously when he talked like that, and-

-and now Rus was slowly, carefully, easing his way into Mutt, achingly slow, stretching him with his sizable girth. Mutt moaned around his gag, back arching as he was gradually filled to the brim, stretching his magic to its utmost limit. He knew Rus could fit (they had tested it repeatedly, in every position they could think of, and a few they had to look up), but it never failed to send that electrical rush of adrenaline through him, his SOUL sending out warning bells that there was something big there, and that the limits were being reached. This first thrust always made him feel like he would be split in half.

Mutt wasn't ashamed to say he loved it.

Mutt was sure if it was anyone but Rus was driving right now, it would hurt like a son of a bitch, but with him it just felt _good_. Rus kept stopping (to Mutt's displeasure), rubbing at his hips and legs and spine, giving him time to adjust to his size before pressing forward again. Mutt knew academically that he needed to for it not to hurt like hell, but all he could think about was having every last inch inside him and then having Rus pound him into the mattress until he was a boneless halloween decoration covered in slime.

It took far too long for Mutt's liking before he finally felt Rus bottom out. He heard his overly-considerate lover sigh in relief, squeezing at Mutt's hips a bit tighter (but _god_ Mutt wanted him to squeeze more, really dig his fingers in, leave some marks). Mutt clenched around him, feeling every delicious inch of Rus's magic sparking and singing against his own, groaning in bliss. Rus was like the sun, like freedom and hope and warmth and light when the world had gone its darkest and coldest. Rus felt like accomplishment and victory and belief in ones self. Rus felt like the world was a good place to live, like life was worth living.

Mutt came, whimpering from the sudden overload of _good_ things. He would have fallen over if Rus hadn't been holding him so tightly, so firmly.

"NYEH HEH HEH!! I AM VERY GLAD TO SEE YOU ARE ENJOYING YOURSELF! BUT! NOW YOU HAVE BEEN CAPTURED BY THE GREAT PAPYRUS!! AND THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING!!"

Before Mutt had even finished riding that first high, Rus demonstrated the second reason he deserved that self proclaimed title: he had energy in spades. Having sex with Rus was like strapping yourself to a fucking machine, a living, breathing (usually) fucking machine that knew all of your weaknesses and could read you like a children's book. He didn't need to eat or sleep. His refractory period was measured in seconds. The only thing that would stop Rus once he started was the desire of his partner to stop, or a previous engagement that required he not be balls deep in one of your fuckable orifices.

It was probably a good thing Rus didn't have a traditional sex drive, or Mutt would never be able to keep up with him. He very much doubts anyone could.

Mutt was again thankful for the gag, or he might have hurt himself from how hard he clenched his teeth. He felt his eyelights roll into the back of his skull, his body jolting with each thrust. He was drowning in a tidal wave of scream inducing, toe-curling _pleasure_. It wasn't long before the second orgasm hit and he blacked out for a few moments.

Rus kept going, Mutt's personal little energizer bunny, dragging along every available surface of his insides, going so deep Mutt swore he could taste it. Or maybe he was just tasting all the colors that kept flashing across his vision.

Mutt was seconds away from another climax when he heard a familiar buzzing noise. He looked over his shoulder to see Rus pull out his cell phone. "HELLO UNDYNE!! HOW ARE YOU THIS FINE DAY??" Rus asked, slowing down to a sedated, languid pace, more rolling his hips than actually thrusting.

It brought Mutt's next climax to a screeching halt. He whined, trying to move, to set his own pace, only to be held firm by Rus' hand still gripping his hip.

"THATS WONDERFUL TO HEAR!" Rus continued, like he wasn't in the middle of having sex with his datemate. "AND ARE THOSE NEW BOOTS??" He pulled all the way out, only to press all the way in again, agonizingly slow after the brutal pace he had been setting. Mutt whined louder. _Damn Rus and his constant desire to be friendly!! And always answer his phone no matter what!!_

Rus hummed in answer to something, letting go of his phone physically to hold it to his skull with BLUE magic. "THAT NOISE?? OH, THAT WAS JUST ANNOYING DOG!! IT ALWAYS MAKES _RUDE NOISES_ AND INTERRUPTS PEOPLE WHEN THEY ARE ON. THE. PHONE." As he spoke, Rus spanked Mutt with his newly free hand, sending a jolt through Mutt's body. Mutt yelped, although it was mostly muffled thanks to his gag. Rus spanked him a second time, before returning the bulk of his attention back to his phone conversation.

Mutt wimpered. He was so close! _So close!!_ Damn Undyne to that special level of hell for unrepentant cockblockers. Not that Mutt would ever say it to her face. Another slow, thorough drag against his inner walls had him crying. It felt so good, but Rus had spoiled him, and now it just wasn't enough. He needed more. He wanted more. He burned for it. Mutt tried clenching around Rus, but that only made him stop his motions entirely until Mutt relaxed again.

Mutt could feel his own slick sliding down his femurs and dripping to the bed. He was acutely aware of the sloppy wet noises each fluid motion of Rus' cock seemed to produce. He could feel the way his false muscles twitched in anticipation, feel the way electricity ran through his marrow, feel that ever tightening coil tighten more and more until it almost _hurt_ he needed it so much.

And even in this torture, the sensation of Rus' dick pressing into the furthest reaches of him still had his head reeling from the joy of it.

It wasn't soon enough when Rus finally hung up the phone, setting it aside before gripping Mutt's hips in earnest. "IT IS RUDE TO INTERRUPT SOMEONE WHEN THEY ARE ON THE PHONE, MY SALACIOUS SYMBIONT!!" He reminded Mutt again with another spank. Mutt jolted with it, groaning, wishing Rus would at least hit a little harder. "BUT I UNDERSTAND!! IT MUST BE QUITE DEVASTATING TO BE SO SUDDENLY INTERRUPTED DURING A TIME WHEN YOU ARE RECEIVING AFFECTIONS FROM ONE AS GREAT AS ME!! IT WAS PROBABLY A REFLEX MADE FROM GRIEF, WASN'T IT??"

Mutt nodded enthusiastically.

"BUT EVEN SO," Rus continued, kneading thoughtfully at the false flesh he had struck before, making Mutt shiver. "I WOULD BE DOING YOU A DISSERVICE IF I DID NOT TAKE IT UPON MYSELF TO CORRECT SUCH BEHAVIOR. YOU DESERVE ONLY THE BEST, AS MY DATEMATE!!! INCLUDING THE BEST AND HIGHEST EXPECTATIONS!!"

Mutt felt himself quiver with anticipation, felt heat rising to his face and his eyelights throb. They were probably hearts. He didn't care. Rus was going to actually punish him, this was more than he could have hoped for!!

A knowing glint in his eyes, Rus began thrusting again in earnest, even faster and harder than before. As he did, he struck Mutt, hard and fast. Mutt howled, coming hard. He came again before the first one even ended, driven heavy and fast over the ledge by his lover's unrelenting assault.

Mutt then felt Rus come inside him, never stilling his hips, filling him up and churning his insides as they were filled by his magic. Mutt came again, harder than all the times before, vision blurry. He heard a strange ringing in his ears. He made his tapout, gripping something off the floor in BLUE magic and throwing it into the wall.

Rus immediately stopped, pulling out, and lowered Mutt to the bed gently. Mutt felt the overflow of his lover's magic, draining slowly from the mouth of his summoned genitalia. He shivered, still wracked with the aftershocks of that last orgasm, as Rus undid his bindings and removed the gag.

"NOW COMES MY FAVORITE PART!!" Rus admitted, scooping Mutt up like a bride, nuzzling and kissing at his cheek and neck. "THE AFTERCARE!!! WHICH WILL START WITH A BATH BECAUSE NOW WE ARE BOTH COVERED IN SLIME!!"

Mutt chuckled, voice hoarse from screaming. "whatever ya like..." he murmured, sockets fluttering shut as his sore body caught up with all the work he'd just done, draining him of energy he honestly hadn't had to begin with.

Lucky for Mutt, Rus had energy in spades, and was happy enough to use it as he carried him away to the bathroom, chittering softly about how well Mutt had taken him, how handsome he was, and how thankful he was to have been chosen to make him happy.

Mutt was of the mind it was him who was lucky. He tried to express as much with a kiss, throwing his tired arms around Rus' neck and pressing their teeth together. He briefly wondered if his meaning got through as he drifted off in his arms, lulled by the steady thrum of Rus' magic and the undeniable sense of being loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK if I got the characterization of "mutt" quite how i like him. he's different than slim, more submissive, more shy, not as vocal in the traditional sense (although he's a screamer). but this will do for now.


	15. Day 14: A Little Something Extra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promps: Asphyxiation; Distention; Tentacles
> 
> Pairing: Underswap Papyrus x StoryShift Chara
> 
> Other Tags: Nipple Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.8k of a Resonance pairing that never really got the development it deserved imo  
> (no pedo here both partners are early-mid twenties)

Chara was an adrenaline junkie.

Stretch was okay with that, for the most part. He was happy enough to watch his chosen mate from a safe distance as they enjoyed the more aggressive amusement park rides. He was... less happy but still okay when Chara wanted to ride a bull to earn some spending money. He wasn't particularly happy (but he understood) when Chara dove headfirst into a knife fight because it was 15 armed humans against one monster. He wasn't happy at all when Chara insisted on visiting new universes, saying it was because they wanted to help.

Stretch had no doubt in his mind that Chara genuinely wanted to help. However, he also knew they were driven by their excessive DETERMINATION, by the very human motivation of 'because they _can_ , and because they can, they _have to_.'

He supposed it was a good thing Chara had chosen to channel that part of their humanity for something positive, but it still made his SOUL go cold whenever they put themselves in harms way.

Chara was an adrenaline junkie. And that unfortunately also followed them to the bedroom.

Stretch had had to have an embarrassing conversation with Lust about the safety precautions they needed to take, about protocol and procedure. He had been very professional, and understanding, and immensely helpful. He'd also teased him gently about it for a few weeks, usually when they were alone or over text (he was blessedly discrete -- one reason Stretch had gone to him for help and not Slim). When all was said and done, Stretch knew more about edgeplay and BDSM than he ever expected to in his life.

The things you do for love.

"stars, i'm a sucker."

Chara pushed Stretch gently down onto his bed, straddling him and nuzzling their forehead to his frontal bone. Their hair fell forward, ticking his skull pleasantly, soft and delicate. Stretch immediately brought his hands up, carding his phalanges through those soft strands, unable to look away from their beautiful red eyes.

"Yeah, but you're _my_ sucker," Chara hummed, sliding forward a bit more to get comfortable, their groin settling on Stretch's lumbar vertebrae, between his ribs and pelvis.

Stretch chuckled, nervous sweat making his hoodie stick to his ribs. "ya sure ya wanna do this?" He asked one last time.

Chara answered with a kiss to his teeth, their lips soft as velvet and sweet as honey. He held them there, just enjoying the gentle moment, the weight of them on top of him. He could fall asleep like this, easily. All too soon, his human pulled away, and started shucking off their green jacket, tossing it to the floor and leaving them in just their t-shirt and shorts. "You have _no idea_ how much I wanna do this right now," they answered, a vivid flush to their cheeks and breathlessness woven in their voice.

Stretch settled his hands on their waist, kneading at the soft, squishy flesh underneath. "ya remember the tap-out? safeword?"

"Yes, you worry wort, I remember," Chara assured him. "I wont let you kill me. Although I think it would be my favorite way to die..." Their thoughtful, teasing smirk answered his self doubt. "I promise. I'd never leave you with that on your soul." They cupped his jaw, thumbing at his teeth thoughtfully. "I'm just so glad its you doing this with me. For me. You're amazing. The coolest."

Stretch felt his magic raise to his face at the blatant praise. He chuckled, trying to laugh it off. "welp." He focused (and, wow, was this more work than he usually put into anything), his left socket burning with the feedback of his magic. "guess its time to make ya laugh."

"Make me lau-aAAAAAH!" Chara started to question, only to be started by the brush of Stretch's latest little trick; a long, coiling tendril of magic which Stretch wove under Chara's clothes, sliding across their skin, probing, questing. He shivered, feeling the sensory feedback from the new appendage acutely, marveling at how soft and strong his human was built. Chara squirmed. "Oh, _tentacles_ , oh my god, do _not_ pun at me in b-" They cut off with a gasp as Stretch found a small, hard nub on their chest, which was apparently quite sensitive.

"heh. whats this?" Stretch asked, still toying with the area as he made a second tendril, which joined the first under Chara's shirt, only to find a twin erogenous zone mirrored on the other side of Chara's body.

"It's called a ni- a nipple," Chara explained, their fingers balled into fists in his hoodie, shivering.

Stretch snickered, squeezing gently at their hips again. "i'll need to remember that," he mused aloud, sweating as he got the third tendril to form, and guided it to slide under the waistband of Chara's shorts, and probe at their asshole. Chara tensed, throwing their head back with a soft, pleased little noise. Stretch took his time to work them open, to ease inside slow and careful. Chara depended on their physicality. If Stretch did any damage, intentional or not, it could seriously hurt them. He moved slow, slicking the way with liquid magic dripping from his appendage, squeezing and rubbing at Chara's legs and ass cheeks as he worked, to keep them relaxed. Toying with their nipples seemed to help with that, if the way they slumped forward and buried their face in his hoodie was any indication, biting back soft little cries and keening noises that had Stretch's SOUL fluttering hotly in his core.

He could already tell it wasn't going to be enough for them, though. It never was. Chara liked pleasure for its own sake, but it just wasn't enough to really get them going. They had assured him, it wasn't his fault, it was just what happened after living life like they did. Stretch believed them. Stretch could see how much they liked it when he touched them like this, how comfortable they were.

He would just need to give them that little extra bit of _more_.

Stretch didn't have enough practice to make more than three of these new appendages at the moment, so he had one of the tentacles that had been teasing Chara's chest slide upward, and carefully, reverently, coil around their throat. He could feel their pulse quicken, their insides twitch in excitement. Even their eyes blazed brighter, though Stretch could only see a sliver of that light peaking under their eyelids.

Bringing one hand up to rub between their shoulderblades (shivering at the curves and lines and contours of their perfect fucking body under his hand, dear god, they were living art), Stretch pressed his teeth to their head, sighing happily at the feel of their softness against his skull, his hands, his magic. "ready, honey?" he asked softly.

"Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes," Chara mumbled, squirming on him, clutching tighter. "Please."

Stretch took a deep breath. Then, in tandem, the tentacle he had inside of Chara began to pound, thrusting in and out as aggressively as his laziness could muster, and the one around their throat squeezed, cutting off their air supply.

The duel sensations had an immediate effect. Chara went rigid, arching straight up on top of him, their eyes wide and shimmering like sunsets. Stretch had expected to be completely turned off by the choked off, broken noises they made, their human body struggling desperately for air it needed, but it was different. It wasn't the same noise Chara made when some random human had tried to choke the life out of them, dusted with undertones of anger and fear. The breathless wheezes sounded like a long unbroken string of aborted moans.

Perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him, changing his perception since he was in control of the situation. Perhaps it was the fact he could feel how their body clung to him, sucking his appendage in deeper, quivering on him, sending blissful tremors to his SOUL and filling his whole existence with pleasure and warmth.

After ten seconds, Stretch let up on the hold on their throat. Chara sucked in a sharp breath, only to use it to scream. "Stretch! Harder!!"

Stretch shivered, gripping harder into his human's hips right before choking them a second time. Chara's beautiful eyes rolled back in their head. The light now hidden, Stretch was able to pull his gaze away from their face, and take in the rest of them. He could see how rigid their posture was, how they trembled and shook in his grip. They were drooling, a few tears sliding down their face. Sweat covered their skin, causing their close to stick to it, making it shine in the dim light, reflecting his honey orange magic and making them seem like they were glowing. Their shirt had ridden up, held there by the tentacles that had slid under it, exposing their stomach to the hot, stale air. The tentacle he had pounding their warm, soft, wet insides, now moving just that little bit faster, was easy to find with his eyes, not only because of the internal glow, but because it's mass was causing Chara's midriff to bulge with each thrust.

The electrical tremors shaking Stretch's soul intensified, and in response his ministrations sped up, looking for that last bit of relief, that last bit of strain to push him over the edge. He felt himself reflexively tighten around Chara's throat. He felt them reflexively tighten around him.

Then he felt euphoria, shoved over that anticipated precipice without any warning. He lost his concentration, his magical constructs going limp where they sat as he rode out his own end with a ragged gasp. Above him, Chara screamed his name: not Stretch, no, they scream "Papyrus!" in that beautiful voice, making his name sound like a blessing, a prayer. He could feel their muscles spasm all over, from their legs to their innermost nerve endings to their fingertips, right before they lost their balance and fell back on top of him, taking desperate, shuddering lungfuls of air.

As they both came down into that sweet hazy afterglow, Stretch dispelled his magic, curling protectively around his human, the best part about his awkward, lanky frame. Chara clung right back, nuzzling their face in his shoulder.

"...so much for being lazy," Chara whispered, voice hoarse from the abuse to their throat.

"very lazy. so lazy." Stretch agreed, not really up for witty banter now that his skull was ringing with happy little bells and his body was pressed flush to the softest, warmest of bodypillows.

He was even less up for banter when Chara clutched at his skull and kissed him, hard and soft all at once, smothering him in their determination to make him feel _loved_ and _appreciated_. He let them, drifting to sleep in a sea of crimson twilight, feeling accomplished and deserving, his human in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i love these two they deserve so much more love than they got.
> 
> I tried to keep Chara gender neutral because i haven't decided on what i like for their biological gender (even for the sake of sin), and honestly stretch doesn't give a damn because its their eyes he's got a boner for (heh)


	16. Day 15: Burgerpants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Overstimulation; Intercrural Sex; Uniforms
> 
> Pairing: Burgerpants x Reader (You)
> 
> Other Tags: Scent Kink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.3k of the first xReader of the month!!
> 
> So since Burgerpants doesnt have a canonical real name, when I write him, his name is Birgir.  
> For the record, 'Birgir' is the scandinavian variant of a nordic name meaning "to help, to save, to protect"
> 
> It also sounds like Burger and I wanted BP's real name to sound like 'Burger' so the fact that the nicecream guy canonically calls him 'Burgy' was less offensive. Now it can just be a diminutive of his real name! Which means the nicecream guy is still nice and my universal truths have not been shaken.

When you said you 'loved a man in uniform', Birgir hadn't expected you to mean even his tacky Burger Emporium uniform. He hadn't even been expecting it, really. The two of you had had a sleepover (just kinda cuddling on the couch together, actually sleeping, after binge watching some cartoons) to ease a bit of stress for both of you, and since he'd had work the next day he'd packed his uniform. A quick duck into your bathroom to change and he was almost out the door, ready for another sparkle-tastic day of customer service, when you'd caught him around the middle from behind.

And _dear god_ the _noise_ you made, running your hands over his chest, feeling the crisp, awkward stiffness of the overly starched clothing, how his fur gave softly beneath. It was feral. He didn't know humans could even _make_ that kind of noise. It had his tail puffing up, primal fear of an obviously larger, stronger predator coupled with a shudder of want, because he was greedy, he wanted attention, _positive_ attention.

And this attention was _very positive_.

"And what's this~?" You asked rhetorically, nuzzling the side of his face, your breath hitting his whiskers.

"M-my uniform..? For, uh, work?" Birgir answered, trying not to be a creep and start getting off to how you were practically petting him with your whole body, clinging to his back and rubbing your chest against it, one leg running up and down his.

You were quiet for a moment, then one hand slid down and gripped rather high up on his thigh. "You don't have work tomorrow, right?" You asked, squeezing.

"N-no?" He answered, confused and energized.

"Good. Come right back here after work tonight... and don't change," You commanded, pressing closer into his back.

Birgir gulped. "O-okay!!" You didn't have to tell him twice.

Grinning, you planted a kiss at the edge of his mouth, letting his whiskers brush against your face. "See you tonight, kitten~" You practically purred, releasing him from your grip.

It took all of Birgir's willpower to make his legs work, to make him leave. If only he had vacation days left... Damn it all.

* * *

Birgir had been thinking about it all day. He'd had a genuine smile on his face all day, just thinking about what was going to happen when he got back to your apartment. He'd never expected you to be interested in that. He hoped (prayed) he wasn't reading you wrong.

When his shift was finally over, he'd never clocked out faster in his life. He also never ran so fast in his live, jumping a few chain-link fences and jaywalking as he took a few shortcuts to get back to your apartment.

You were waiting for him outside your door, which you opened and gestured for him to enter. He did, taking his usual seat on the couch.

You only paused long enough to drop your pants and shirt to the floor before you sat in his lap, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a rather passionate kiss. Birgir clung to you, kneading at your back with his paws and purring like the happiest man on earth. Your hands smoothed over his stiff shoulders, his sore back, his ears, his neck. You slowly unbuttoned his shirt and slid your hand under it to card through his chest fur, working at the tissue and fur that had been held captive all day.

To Birgir's unspeakable delight, your hand eventually traveled lower, to where his dick was already straining against his work pants. You pulled down the zipper and eased his aching sex free, pumping at it languidly.

"Oh my god, are you barbed?!" You gasped out, yanking you hand away.

Birgir blushed furiously. "No! I mean, yeah, but not how you think! They aren't sharp, just-" He cut off as you again put your hand around him, rubbing tentatively at his underside with your thumb. He shivered, feeling the softness of your hand and how you pressed on his 'barbs', testing the sensitive ends of the rougher attribute to his equipment, causing the surrounding nerve endings increased stimulation when the skin was pushed and pulled.

"Dunno if I'm ready to try taking that," You admitted, causing disappointment to well up in him. He was about to let you know it was okay, you didn't have to do anything, really, it was a nice thought, when you shifted your weight, and sandwiched his length between your soft, warm thighs. "But like hell I'm letting you off that easy."

You started to squeeze your thighs together, rubbing and humping against his length as you sat sideways in his lap. Birgir yowled, bucking upward, thrusting between your thighs, melting at the feel of your soft skin squeezing him, your sweat lubricating the otherwise unbearable friction. He could smell your arousal, feel it through the damp spot on your panties rubbing the side of his dick.

Your soft noises, breath buffeting the fur of his neck, the shivers he could feel running up and down your spine... It didn't take him long at all to come, whining with it, hiding his face in your shoulder and breathing in the scent of you, his SOUL soaring as your scent and his mixed together, your legs and stomach coated in his magic, marking you as his.

You nuzzled his cheek, licking teasingly at one of his long whiskers, sending a lightning bolt of stimuli through him. Your motions never slowed. You weren't stopping. He came, but you hadn't yet, and you weren't stopping. His mind melted, all coherent thought drained out of him as he was left clinging to you, mewling as you overloaded his touched starved body.

If anything, your gyrations only grew more aggressive, grinding down on him, finding that sweetest angle that got him rubbing against your groin, slicking him with your juices in the process, slathering him in your heat. Your every muscle trembled against him, around him, under his hands. It was too much. He was thrown over the edge a second time, yowling with it.

Birgir couldn't think of anything except your smooth, furless skin, your warmth, the way you smelled. You smelled so good. You always smelled good, but covered in his scent, you smelled so much better. It was addictive, it was torture, it was bliss.

Suddenly your whole body locked up, and you hid your face in _his_ shoulder, buried yourself in the fur of his neck, wracked by wave after wave of full body shudders as you finally found your release, and went still. Birgir found the whole experience too much, and he joined you in that last blessed fall through pleasure, although it was borderline painful for him by this point. He didn't even care.

Purring, feeling more relaxed than he has in years, Birgir fell to once side, curling up around you. You snuggled into him, shifting so you both could stretch out long-ways on the couch, tangling your legs together. Birgir pulled you close, nosing at that spot behind your jaw where he could feel your pulse. It was fluttering as wildly as his soul, but slowly calming down.

"Gooood kitty," You hummed against his neck, nuzzling closer. "My kitty... sexy kitty..."

Birgir flushed, not used to compliments that weren't backhanded. He reached over and pulled the blanket over you, something to cover your bare shoulders and legs from behind, even as he used himself to cover you from the front.

"Now I know why everyone calls you Burgerpants," You murmured sleepily. "Certainly earned that title tonight... Might need to... taste that meet for real..."

Birgir blushed so hard he was certain he was glowing even under his fur. He _hated_ that nickname. _Hated_ it. But... coming from you, in that context... it actually sounded... pretty good?

He decided you were the only one allowed to call him that as he drifted off to sleep, SOUL thrumming happily in time with your heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had too much fun with this. does this make me a furry? XD


	17. Day 16: A Different Kind of Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Frottage, Body Worship
> 
> Pairing: Horrortale Sans x Dusttale Sans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.9k of something that is more plot than porn. does this even count? oh well have it
> 
> i'm super behind now i dont have anything else queued up omg gotta write write write write write

Horror was minding his own business, in his bedroom (which happened to also be the castle kitchen, because of course he wouldn't trust anyone else to take care of their precious food supply, not when he shared a roof with the most irreverent bastards in the multiverse), sharpening his favorite kitchen knife (which was more like a machete, which might have _been_ a machete, but it was a kitchen knife now). It was the one thing he knew how to do that would let him cling to himself, a mindless task for a mind he wanted nothing to do with, to forget about.

He wanted to forget. For just a little while.

He had his back to the door, leaning over the sink as he sharpened the aged, chipped meal, wondering how much longer he'd be able to keep it in good condition before it broke. He didn't need to turn around to know someone had come into his domain. He didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.

Dust wasn't a guy you could ignore, or mistake.

Dust pressed up against Horror's back, hooking his chin over Horror's left shoulder to get a better look at what Horror was doing. Horror was torn between feeling uncomfortable and feeling relieved, having the other's skull so close to the hole in his head. Was it protection? Was it a risk? He couldn't know, shouldn't know, didn't know. The dichotomy between the two reactions made his whole body hyper aware of his surroundings. He was aware of how Dust's arms caged him, bracing themselves on the counter and locking him in place, his ribcage pressed into his back and making it futile to try a shortcut (he'd just drag Dust along).

"what'cha doin'?" Dust asked, sounding half asleep, mumbling.

Horror could feel the energy, the power, that Dust usually had was largely drained away. That meant he'd either been in a big fight (with those disgusting, hypocritical 'Star Sanses' -- _fuck how he wanted to punch them all in the face_ \-- or with Nightmare and/or Error, who Dust sometimes agreed with and sometimes decided he didn't, and Horror couldn't find a pattern as to the why, thinking about it made his head hurt and his midriff sore), or he'd just had a romp with Kink (and how that freak managed to keep up with an LV20 guy like Dust, Horror was sure he would never know; Kink was an exception in so many ways and thinking about it too hard made his skull hurt and his midriff sore).

"whats it look like? maintenance," Horror answered, knowing his half hearted attempt to sound pleasant had fallen flat. It always did. He was just too bitter. Too angry. Too hungry. Not that he thought it would matter to Dust, but a little bit of practice never hurt.

_~~Except when it did. And then it hurt a lot, and everything turned red, and black, and stood out in stark relief like a badly saturated comic book, and then Horror would hear his own voice say 'bone apatite' and then he'd space out. And then, later, he'd realize he was in his room, his kitchen, again, alone. And everything would hurt.~~ _

But it wasn't hurting now.

"gonna need a new one soon," Dust commented, mirroring Horror's own musings on the matter.

"i'll worry about it when it happens," Horror deflected.

Dust didn't respond verbally. He just brought one arm around Horror's ribcage, pressing the tips of two fingers into Horror's sternum through his threadbare shirt. It didn't hurt, but there was a jolt of something that ran through Horror at the touch, making his mind fuzz out. He distantly realized he'd dropped the knife in the sink, heard it clatter against the lime-crusted metal, too big to fit inside the bowl properly, leaning at an incline from the rim as it settled.

Horror knew what it was. The intent to please. He clutched at the sink, straining to hold still. He _knew_ what this was. Dust and him were a lot alike. The worst wasn't what they looked like, or even their LV. The worst of it was the way they had lost a part of themselves, lost that bit of their mind, their control.

Whatever it was that Dust was doing, had done, seemed to help bring himself back, bring him back to a point that he _could_ dredge up intent that wouldn't hurt. Horror had always wondered what it was. Now he _knew_. It was _this_ , this thing that Kink had shown him, that Kink had tried to show Horror.

The simplistic genius of it almost had Horror laughing, but his whole body was hyper focused on Dust's hand on his chest, just rubbing idly, like he's not even aware he's doing it.

"ya dropped it," Dust commented, still mumbling, still low and rough from sleep. Horror almost thought he might be sleepwalking, but he knew better. Dust was the reason the castle kept its doors closed, because his sleepwalking wasn't something you wanted to come in contact with (and thankfully sleepwalking Dust wasn't cognizant enough to handle a doorknob).

Horror knew he could stop it if he wanted. Dust seemed to be in a reasonable mood. Just telling him 'no' would be enough. And if it wasn't? Well, Horror wasn't anything to shake a stick at either. He could get away (he has before, everyone who was still alive in this place has gotten away from Dust at least once). The question wasn't if he _could_ , it was if he wanted to.

Horror decided, right then, he didn't really want to.

Chuckling, Horror relaxed his shoulders. "yup. don't need two distractions."

Dust again didn't respond in words, instead bringing his other hand down to grip at Horror's hip, holding it firmly. Horror was again acutely aware of a mass of electric heat pressing against his tailbone. The sensation was muted, but that only meant Dust still had his shorts on. Horror swallowed, for once the saliva pooling in his mouth having nothing to do with hunger, not thick and cloying and tainted black.

Dust made a soft grunting noise as he ground against Horror, rutting into him, chasing a high of his own even as his hands slipped under Horror's ratty shirt to get at his spine and ribcage. His hands worked slow, meticulous, curling almost delicately around the hollow ivory and stroking it reverently. Horror's mind was filled with pleasant static, his sockets fluttering shut as he just stood there and... didn't hurt. He let himself stop hurting for just a little while, let himself enjoy it. And it was enjoyable, feeling those hands on him. Hands that didn't condemn him, didn't judge him, didn't fear him, that wanted with every lingering caress to make him feel wanted.

Because Dust understood. He understood. Sometimes you do crazy things to protect the people you love. And maybe they had both gone a little bit further than they should have, crossed some sort of line. Maybe the road to hell was paved with good intentions. And Horror and Dust knew that better than anyone else.

But it didn't mean you had to stay there.

Horror pressed back into Dust, panting as he felt his body worked slowly up from its usual cold to an almost uncomfortable heat, sweat slicking across every surface as his faulty magic crackled back to life in his marrow (not as strong as it once was, not the right color, not the right hum, but his and alive). Dust pressed closer, ground against him harder, squeezed his ribs a little tighter, but still careful, careful, each twitch and graze dripping in the desire to be careful, even though he could feel the magic in him sing and cry for something violent, pulsing hot with it. Horror's soul began to beat in time with that powerful throbbing, faster and faster, harmonizing with it. He only realized his own lower half had manifested when he felt himself shoved against the side of the sink, rubbing against him with each gyration of Dust's hips.

The gentle touches and light pressure against Dust's magic was maddening (but the good kind of maddening, nothing at all like the dark, lonely, painful madness he was haunted by).

The room was silent, save for their heavy breathing, the occasional grunt or yelp from a particularly electrifying shudder, and the sound of fabric rustling and rubbing. Horror could barely hear any of it over the pounding of his magic in his skull, throbbing like the pulse of more physical creatures, pounding like a heartbeat. The pounding grew louder and louder as Dust's surprisingly talanted fingers found more and more places to torment, to worship, to revere. Horror's skull was swimming but it was different and he wasn't spacing out, he was too aware, overly aware, hyper aware.

He was drowning in how aware he was of his impending release.

"fuck..." Horror gasped, wracked by another spasm, so close to nirvana, yet so far.

"thats one name fer it," Dust huffed, still low and rumbling, still rough, but less from sleep and more from something else. Maybe it had always been that something else. That thought only made the fire singing through Horror's marrow stronger.

Dust's speed picked up, humping against Horror faster, harder. Horror felt his face warm at the realization that this was it: this was how he was gonna come for the first time in ages, fondled into a drooling mess and ground into the side of the kitchen sink, the heat of another monster's magic soaking into his sacrum through his shorts. He almost started to fight it, to resist, but Dust wasn't having any of it. He sped up his rubbing, his scratching, slipping one hand down and gripping his aching, untouched member through his shorts, kneading at it, drawing a needy whine out of Horror's throat he'd never thought himself capable of making.

Horror threw his head back, gasping for air he didn't need, had never needed, but suddenly felt like he needed because how else was he supposed to cool off from this heat? He shook with it, feeling the pressure of it build higher still, making his vision blur and his voice pitch higher.

Horror wasn't sure what it was (the way Dust pressed even closer, ground harder, dug his phalanges deliciously into his tender false flesh, or the subtle incline of Dust's skull, the gentle press of his teeth to Horror's bared cervical vertebra), but suddenly Horror felt the culmination of his being snap like an overstretched rubber band, and he growled with it, snarled with it, feral and low and unbridled, soaking his shorts with his slime so much it seeped through and clung to Dust's hand. Dust kept going, stoking the fire even as it burned its way through Horror's system. He felt the increase in dampness on his back, a sign he wasn't the only one to fall over the edge.

The two of them stood there, Horror clinging to the counter to keep upright, his legs shaking under him too much to support him on their own, Dust clinging to him, rattling softly at Horror's back. They were both still panting, trying to recover themselves. But Horror didn't mind being lost like this. This was a different kind of lost. A good kind. A welcome kind.

He knew Dust felt the same way.

Just like he knew this wouldn't be the last time they lost themselves together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly they are both so much alike in the way they fell from grace i cant even
> 
> idk what prompted dust to come in there. probably just one of those random little things that made him think he should share some of the stuff kink shared with him. or maybe it was horror who helped him find kink in that previous chapter and this was his way of saying thank you since he's kinda forgotten how to be nice any other way. or maybe theres a poly going on idk but i ship it


	18. Day 17: Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Masturbation; Seduction; Collaring; Orgasm Denial
> 
> Pairing: Poisonpuff (Undertale Papyrus x Swapfell Sans)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.7k of another pairing i'm not confident in

Razz paced back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, fidgeting with the strip of soft leather in his hand. He'd had it on his person for weeks, feeding into it, focusing his desire to protect and possess into intent so potent it would even have made his queen think twice. He'd practiced his speech, planned for every possible little detail. Even so, he was- No, he was _not nervous._ He was the Malevolent- the _Magnanimous_ Sans, Razz the Skeleton, hear his name and tremble. He was a force of nature, unstoppable and unyielding. He was the best damn lawyer in Ebott City.

He was also overthinking things. And wearing a hole in his carpet. _Sit down, idiot._ Razz made himself settle on the couch, which he had already steam cleaned twice. His leg continued to jitter, his patella bouncing up and down to his increasing irritation, which only seemed to make it bounce more. He looked at the clock on the wall, a gaudy, ugly thing he and Slim had found in an antique shop, shaped like some kind of chubby cartoon cat with its tail swinging like a pendulum below it, its slitted pupils going side to side just a few milliseconds off-time above its gaping maw, which held the actual clock face. It was still five minutes before their allotted time, but even so Razz was still anxious.

What if today was the day he chose not to come?

It was one minute before their agreed upon time when Razz heard the knock on the door. He rushed to open it, before realizing what it was he had done, and composed himself. Hiding the little leather trinket in his pocket, Razz made a stepstool out of bone attacks, climbing onto it to peak through the peephole, checking to be certain it was in fact the monster he was waiting for. After confirming, he unlocked the door, smirking up at the taller monster. "RIGHT ON TIME. AS EXPECTED," he praised.

"OF COURSE!!" Rus agreed, smiling down at him without any sign of condescension. "ONLY THE HIGHEST OF STANDARDS FOR MY DATEMATE!" He knelt down, curling his arms around Razz's middle and into a hug, careful not to pick him up (Rus had only ever done so once, and after Razz had screeched at him about how he disliked it, how their current level of relationship made it inappropriate, he had never done so again).

Razz hugged him back, a gesture he was only just getting used to, but felt _right_. And it was something Rus needed, physical affection and validation he craved. The tiny contented sigh that just this small amount of it drew out of him made any uncertainty Razz had about its value disappear.

_But, oh, Razz had so much more affection and validation planned for him. Razz had his own standards for how to care for his pets. He was done hesitating._

With one more tight squeeze, Razz pulled away, a signal for Rus to stand up and come inside. Rus followed him in, closing and locking the door politely behind him. He paused when he turned to see Razz was just standing there in the middle of the livingroom, waiting.

"SIT DOWN," Razz commanded, making sure to soften his tone, so Rus would understand this wasn't a bad thing, never a bad thing, but still important. He gestured to the couch. Rus hesitated, and Razz could see the questions begging to fly from his mouth, but the ever-trusting idiot (no, not an idiot, just stubborn in his desire to believe in everyone, despite everything, and Razz adored him for it) simply sat down, prim and proper and expectant as he waited for Razz to begin.

Razz took another moment to regard the other, his datemate, the one he wanted, who met all of his standards. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the collar. "DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT I TOLD YOU ABOUT THIS?? WHEN YOU ASKED ABOUT MY BROTHER'S??"

Rus nodded, his eyelights starting to sparkle as he began to piece together what it was Razz had in mind. Rus was too smart for his own good sometimes, but Razz adored that about him too. "AND WHO IS THAT FOR?"

"I THINK YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO IT IS FOR," Razz answered, coming closer. "THE QUESTION IS WILL YOU WEAR IT?? KNOWING WHAT IT IS? WHAT IT MEANS?"

Rus chuckled, and as an answer, began to unwind his scarf from his throat, leaving it bare as he folded the treasured article neatly at his side. "ONLY IF YOU DON'T MIND IT GOING UNDER MY SCARF."

Razz grinned, feral and victorious, as he came closer, straddling Rus' lap so he would be on level with him. "IT IS NO MATTER IF YOU DO OR NOT. ANYONE WHO NEEDS TO KNOW IT IS THERE WILL FEEL IT REGARDLESS." With no small amount of pleasure, Razz looped the soft leather collar around Rus's delicate cervical vertebrae, cinching the buckle tight enough it would not jangle or move, but loose enough not to chafe or choke. He shivered at the soft gasp Rus let out as the collar activated, and suddenly Razz was swamped in a sea of _positivity_ and _happiness_ and _relief_ and _arousal_ -

Wait. Those weren't Razz's feelings.

He grinned wider. "YOU REALLY ARE TOO TRUSTING."

Rus leaned forward, pressing his frontal bone to Razz'. "BUT YOU EARNED THAT TRUST!! YOU MEET ALL OF MY STANDARDS!! AND OF COURSE I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WOULD MEET ALL OF YOURS!! AND NOW," His cheery smile turned somewhat salacious, and Razz felt the echoes of _mischief_ hit him a second too late. Rus suddenly had him in a tight embrace, one gloved hand cradling his skull while the other pulled him closer by his coccyx. "NOW YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE NOT TO LET ME SHOWER YOU IN KISSES!!"

"EXCEPT NEITHER OF US HAS LIPS!!" Razz squawked in mock outrage, trying to use his own annoyance to block out the sheer volume of Rus' emotions as he gripped the newly settled collar and used it to pull Rus even closer, until their teeth were pressed together and Razz was breathing in the magic of his pet, vibrant and energetic and _his_. He purred, guttural and low, feeling how Rus enjoyed the attention, mirrored in his enthusiastic return of the kiss, the way he clung to Razz, tighter and tighter. Razz was drowning in the way Rus felt, in his _joy_ and his _love_ for him, so overwhelming all at once that Razz might have spaced out for a moment.

"I THINK-" Rus panted as he pulled his head away, eyes sparkling _victoriously_ , holding Razz cradled to his ribs like one might a _treasure_ , or a bride (and how did Razz get into this position?! he didn't remember shifting so drastically that Rus could scoop him up bridal style!), "THAT LIPS MAY BE UNNECESSARY."

Razz should have been yelling at Rus to put him down. But he didn't. He just clung tighter to Rus' collar, catching his breath and wondering if maybe he had made some kind of mistake along the way, because this was the exact opposite of how he'd expected the night to end. Razz was supposed to be the one in control, on top, dominating! How did things change so fast?!

"NOW, MY DELECTABLE DATEMATE," Rus continued, shifting his grip slightly to make it more comfortable for Razz, echoes of _care_ and _affection_ coming through along with _arousal_ and _excitement_. "I THINK IT IS TIME THAT YOU AND I UPGRADED OUR LEVEL OF INTIMACY!!! THIS LOVELY GIFT IS A GOOD START!! BUT NOW WE NEED TO KEEP GOING!! IF THAT IS OKAY WITH YOU, OF COURSE!!"

Razz, a bit dazed from the constant overflow of _affection_ and _love_ , realizing dimly that the reason Rus must have been holding him like that was because of how hard he was shaking, his legs likely giving out, nodded dumbly. The _joy_ that came back to him would have knocked him off his feet if he hadn't been already.

"WONDERFUL!!" Rus exclaimed. Then he blushed a pretty sunset pink color, just as a wave of _arousal_ and _embarrassment_ hit Razz. "THEN?? CAN I?? MAYBE?? SEE YOU??"

Razz froze, understanding the meaning of Rus' request. He hesitated. He adored Rus, his precious datemate, his pet, but even that couldn't erase years of suspicion and self-preservation. He put his free hand to his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, uncertain and pissed about his own uncertainty. All the while, he felt Rus' unwavering _happiness_ and _hope_ and _excitement_ , not a single trace of malice to be found.

"YOU MAY LOOK," Razz finally said, giving in. "BUT YOU WILL. NOT. TOUCH."

Rus nodded, trembling with _excitement_.

Razz side eyed him for a moment, before taking a deep breath, and bringing out his SOUL. It was a charcoal grey, protected by his massive LV and glowing brightly with a venomous indigo light. Only a few spiderweb cracks and small splotches of uncalloused surface area showed the pristine white still beneath. Razz hadn't even seen it himself in a while, and he couldn't suppress a wince at the... unpleasant aesthetic. It was honestly grotesque.

Even so, all he could feel from Rus was _awe_ and _affection_. "YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL," Rus breathed, clutching to Razz's body tighter.

"I AM HANDSOME," Razz corrected. "AND MASCULINE, AND AESTETICALLY SUPERIOR IN EVERY WAY."

"AGREED. AND SUCH AESTHETICALLY PLEASANT THINGS SHOULD ALSO FEEL PLEASANTLY, SHOULDN'T THEY? SO..." Rus smirked down at Razz, sending a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the sudden echo of _arousal_ and _mischief_. "SINCE I AM FORBIDDEN FROM TOUCHING, YOU SHOULD DO IT."

Razz bristled, feeling his face burn. His SOUL, traitorous thing that it was, throbbed and pulsed visibly at the suggestion, showing how appealing the idea was to Razz's innermost self, despite (if not because of) the humiliation it would bring. Again, Razz hesitated, his grip on Rus' collar tightening as he tried to once more figure out how the whole situation had flipped on him.

Razz still couldn't figure it out, even as he gave in to his pet's wish (because how the hell do you say know to that? to him? the answer is that you don't, you can't, and its another reason Razz wants Rus for himself, wants that power that has nothing to do with violence). Razz closed his fingers around his SOUL, flinching at the chill of his own touch, made worse by his gloves. He hastily pulled back, ripping his glove off with his teeth before returning his now bare phalanges tentatively to the tender organ. His bare fingers felt much warmer, his magic singing through the bone in a way his SOUL could feel. Tension eased from his body as he stroked at it, squeezing gently, lulled by the gentle pressure of his own touch and the soft scrape of his bone against the rough outer shell of his LV.

It was comfortable, pleasant even, until his thumb accidentally razed over one of the uncalloused spots, one of the unprotected patches of pure white. He jerked his thumb away quickly, hissing with the sudden overload of stimuli. That had felt a little too good. That echo of Rus' _delight_ didn't help either.

Razz finally looked back up at his pet, scowling at the sight of him staring down unwaveringly. "WELL?? DOES THIS SATISFY??"

Rus shook his head. "NOT ENTIRELY, MY BEDAZZLING DARLING!! BUT IT IS A VERY GOOD START!! HOWEVER, STARTS MUST BE FINISHED!!" He pressed another kiss to Razz' skull, ever the affectionate one. "PLEASE CONTINUE!! I THINK YOU FOUND THE RIGHT SPOT THERE!!"

Razz blinked up at him, completely taken aback. He looked down at his SOUL in his hand, watching it tremble in his equally trembling fingers. He knew what Rus wanted him to do. He knew what had Rus' feelings of _excitement_ running so high. He smirked to himself, shifting in his pet's hold, getting more comfortable. His one hand only tightened hits grip on Rus' collar, clinging to it to ground himself as he once again attempted to touch the culmination of his being.

Brushing against the callouses of LV felt good, it was true, but it was nothing compared to touching the unprotected parts, the soft white patches and veins of his fundamental existence. At first, even Razz's gentlest brushes had his eyelights crossing, making it hard to focus enough to get a good rhythm going. But he slowly, steadily, worked himself into it. Gradually, his SOUL began to grow slick with excess magic, leaking violet colored slime that eased the friction to something even more pleasurable, despite the utter mess. Razz's whole body trembled and twitched with each swipe of his thumb. His clothes began to stick to his sweat covered bones, a feeling he hadn't had in ages.

He was so close, that coiling tightness compressing more and more, pushing him closer and closer to the edge until-

_WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT-_

Razz snarled, tightening his grip on his SOUL, even as that delicious release slipped almost literally between his fingers. He glared up at his datemate, furious and left wanting. "WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY FUCKING WANT TO WAIT?!?!!?" He snapped, his usual self control on his temper frayed and weakened thanks to his delicate, exposed, vulnerable state.

Rus grinned wider. Smirked. Hitting Razz with a rush of _victory_ and _amusement_ and something along the lines of _mischievous glee_. "NOTHING AT ALL!!! ALSO LANGUAGE!!" He leaned down, showering Razz in _affectionate_ little butterfly kisses. "PLEASE CONTINUE!!"

Razz glared, irritable after having been interrupted, but again he couldn't deny Rus anything. He returned to his touches, eyelights fluttering shut. It took very little time at all to get back to the very precipice he had been on before. Razz sped up his ministration, gasping softly, feeling every joint lock and tense as his body prepared for the tension to finally snap and send him-

_WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT-_

-face first into what might as well have been a brick wall, his impending orgasm stopped in its tracks. Razz snarled in outrage, in frustration, opening his eyes to tell his pet to cut it out, that he was making it extremely difficult, only to have his words stolen by a kiss, deep and long. Razz found himself off balance and drowning in _love_ and _desire_ and _affection_ , assaulted on all sides by an attack he had no defense for, struggling to remain in control even as he felt that control ripped away, all while he was left dangling a mere hair breadth away from release, denied what was literally in his grasp.

When Rus pulled back, leaving Razz an overstimulated, jumbled mess, Razz could feel the _elation_ , the _smug self-satisfaction_ , that told him his lover was doing it on purpose. Razz hadn't even known it was _possible_ to manipulate through intent like this!! How Rus had managed to figure it out in a matter of minutes, and then implement it so effectively, was not only beyond Razz' comprehension, but utterly terrifying.

Terrifying, and just one more reason Razz was in love: what kind of idiot wasted a mind with such tactical brilliance?!

Rus grinned down at Razz, and that appraising gaze, the face of someone who saw something they liked, send another tremor through Razz' core. "DO NOT MIND ME, MY PRECIOUS PARAMOUR!! PLEASE DO CONTINUE!!"

Oh, _oh_ , Razz would be getting his revenge. He would have Rus begging for MERCY. Rus would learn who was in charge here, who was the pet and who was the master. But for now, for now, Razz would indulge him. Because thats what a good master did, he indulged their pet.

~~And Rus was happy to indulge.~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This threatened to go on longer. Usually I prefer to go until we hit the 'and they passed out during the afterglow' ending, but this was getting long and i need to move on.
> 
> Lets be honest, Razz thinks hes in charge but its Rus who takes over in the bedroom. Rus is a damn manipulative genius and Razz is lucky he's also genuinely affectionate and caring or Razz would be in big trouble. This probably went on for hours until Razz was mindlessly begging and rus finally let him finish, only to shower him in kisses and then give them both a bath because ew slime


	19. Day 18: The Way You Like It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fucking Machine; Latex; Role Reversal; Xenophilia
> 
> Pairing: Underfell Papyrus x Reader (You)
> 
> Other Tags: Praise; Orgasm Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably could have made this longer with more time, done it from Papyrus' perspective, but DEADLINES~

The ragged cry that ripped itself from Papyrus' throat was music to your ears. You looked up from your book, regarding your overly energetic lover with a satisfied smirk.

Papyrus was naked, strapped down to a chair, and hooked up to a machine that was expressly designed (by you, patent pending) to target every last one of his erogenous zones. Feathers and brush tips on his ribs, spine, and sacrum, taking care to pay attention to joints and foramen especially, worked tirelessly at his long overstimulated bones. The brushes in his pelvic inlet made it impossible for him to form anything remotely similar to human genitalia.

Just the way you liked it! Him and his beautiful ivory physique, decorated in the scars of battle, shimmering in sweat, rattling musically as he fought with himself not to beg.

You've had him on the machine for a good 12 hours now. He was always the dominant one, the one in control, making you squirm and cry and beg as he fucked you up and down the house. Oh, you loved it, you loved him, but every once in a while, you wanted to return the favor. You, however, did not have his energy, his stamina, so... you had to improvise.

And by improvise you meant building a machine specifically to edge him to the brink of madness.

Papyrus let out another gasp, quaking as he was again brought to the edge of release, only to hit the metaphorical glass ceiling that apparently existed when there was no intent behind the touches. You bit your lip, watching him thrash and pant, trying to get that last bit he needed, only to fail.

"PET!!" Papyrus finally snarled, though his expression was worn down to that of desperation. "GET OVER HERE AND FUCKING TOUCH ME!!"

You hummed, before smiling wider. "If thats what you want~" You purred, getting up. You didn't go straight to him, however; first you stopped by the table and picked up a pair of latex gloves, pulling them on in clear view for him.

"NO!! DON'T WEAR THOSE!! I SAID TOUCH ME FOR FUCKS SAKE!!" Papyrus shouted as you came closer.

"But, boss, I _am_ touching you," You said, playing innocent even though you both knew you were anything but. The gloves felt amazing against his bones, you knew, but they also blocked out intent. You wiped the building sweat from his skull, caressing his sharp, angular jaw with one hand as the other teased at his clavicle. _God, he was fucking living artwork_ , you couldn't stand how handsome he was. It wasn't fair for a guy who was designed to look like something dead to be so alive and expressive and beautiful.

And he was very expressive (once you got passed his default resting bitch face). Now he was blissed out, sockets fluttering shut and teeth slightly parted, letting you thumb at the sharp canines and admire them. There was so much to admire about him from looks alone, and that didn't even touch upon his personality, his strength, his soul, which you adored with equal (if not greater) enthusiasm. You decided it was as good a time as any to tell him so.

You told him how handsome he was, how beautiful, how he must have been crafted by the gods themselves to look as good as he did. You told him how every scar and chip was a story, a story of his bravery and strength, and that they only made him even more handsome. You told him how much you admired him for holding on to his hope and his compassion and his love, even in the face of impossible choices and hardship, even when he was made to make choices that still haunt him in the dead of night. You told him how great he was, how amazing, how you would never be able to find a better person.

As you spoke, you saw the red flush to his maxilla and nasal ridge grow deeper, more vibrant.

"SH-SHUT UP..!" Papyrus practically pleaded, but there was a wet aspect to it, and his body was shaking even more violently. Drool was now leaking from between his teeth, and shimmering beads of pink tears had gathered in his sockets.

"Why? Don't you believe me? I mean every word. You're amazing, Papy. I love yo-" You tried to finish, but the last syllable was cut off by loud, low moan and the sound not unlike a water-balloon breaking. There was a bright flash of light from somewhere in his ribcage, and both you and him were splattered in red slime, smelling of tomatoes and something spicy.

You blinked down at him, and even though your mind was still trying to catch up to what had actually happened, your body was already up and hot and tingling all over. You'd made him come. With your intent. Just from praise.

You switched the machine off, kicking it away so you could straddle his lap. You ripped your gloves off, gripping his feverish, sticky bones and pressing into kiss after kiss, grinding into his pelvis and whining because _holy hell, that was hot as fuck_!!

"If you... like hearing that... so much..." You started to say between kisses, untying him from the chair. "I'll just... make a... recording... of myself... saying all of that... and how much... I love you... over and over... and every day... every _fucking_ day... when you come home from work... you can listen to it... as I shower you in kisses..." You finally got the last binding off, tossing it aside and kissing him even harder than before, moaning into his teeth as you felt his arms wrap around you, holding you close.

Papyrus panted, out of breath he didn't really need, as he held you, still shaking and riding that high from a good orgasm. You nuzzled his shoulder, uncaring of the mess, giving him a moment to gather himself.

You knew as soon as he did, he'd be paying you back tenfold.

Just the way you liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a fucking sucker for Edgy Papy having such a big praise kink ok leave me alone. Also playing with intent is fun. Words can have intent too~


	20. Day 19: Worth the Risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Public; Formal Wear; Cock-Warming
> 
> Pairing: Krumping (Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: Dom/sub

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~2.5k of self-indulgent 'almost but not quite kustard'.
> 
> The floodgates have opened and I can't get enough of this pairing now.

Red fiddled with the cuffs on his monkey suit, scowling at his image in the mirror. This was dumb. He didn't even want to go, but it was apparently some big teacher event and he was required to attend. The upside was that he could bring a plus-one (and since the event fell on a sunday, which was Lust's usual day with Pink, it would be Dance joining him, and Red had heard Lust give him strict orders to take lots of pictures and video). The downside was that, thanks to Lust and Dance knowing about it, and Dance coming along, Red apparently couldn't get away with dressing in his everyday clothes.

Like it even mattered what he wore. He'd only be standing or sitting there playing sudoku on his phone for three hours, listening to some smuck who hadn't actually worked with a student themselves for fifteen years tell him how to do his fucking job.

Red sighed, giving his overdressed reflection another scowl, before coming out of the bathroom. Dance was in the bedroom, standing still as Lust fussed over his tie, making sure it fitted correctly. Red had to admit, the dark blue suit, bright blue tie, white dress shirt, and black loafers looked good on him. It made a stark contrast to Red's black suit, matching shoes, and vivid red dress-shirt that he had to leave open towards the neck so his collar would sit right (because he was not taking it off for this. he wasn't. screw that).

 _At least one of them would look nice._ Not that it mattered. But still.

Lust and Dance turned to look at him, both of them staring for an inordinate amount of time. Red shifted on his feet, feeling more and more ridiculous as time passed. "fer fucks sake, what?!" He finally snapped, feeling his face grow overly warm.

"sorry sweetie, its just," Lust started, darting forward and nuzzling into him. "you clean up so~ good~" he purred, smoothing his hands over the front of Red's suit.

Red felt himself flush harder. "uh..." He looked up at Dance, who was flushing a vivid azure to match his tie, reaching blindly behind him as though to grab a hood that was not there.

Red cleared his throat. "we... uh... we better go..."

Lust nodded, pulling first Red, then Dance, in for a goodbye kiss, looking both smug and thoughtful as he waved them goodbye.

* * *

Red had been right. The event was boring as shit. Just some crotchety old dude prattling on about fuck all, passing out awards here and there. Honestly, Red didn't bother to pay much attention other than to stop his game long enough to clap politely when necessary. The only time he bothered to look up from his phone was when he heard Toriel's name called, and saw her presented with an award. He clapped with a smidgen of genuine appreciation then -- the old goat deserved some recognition.

Then he'd gone back to his game.

Dance must have been channelling his own boredom, his grin strained and his own hand occupied with his own phone under the table (unlike Red, he at least tried to pretend he was paying attention). Dance's other hand didn't really leave Red's femur, gripping just hard enough to be a constant, unmistakable pressure, occasionally inching up or down the length of it, squeezing gently every so often. Red's other hand rested on top, a silent request to keep it there.

Two bored assholes finding comfort in their shared dislike of public events; Red appreciated the solidarity. 

Eventually, that part ended, and the afterparty began. Red considered grabbing Dance and bailing right then, but a sharp look from his boss (the crotchety principle that seemed to simultaneously despise Red and desire to keep him on staff) told him he'd get be in deep shit if he did. Red scowled harder, slinking over to the punch bowl, part of him praying some other less considerate asshole had spiked it so Red could say he hadn't meant to drink in front of Dance while still getting buzzed.

He didn't make it ten feet before he was pulled into a conversation with some other teacher. A woman in her mid-twenties, wearing a tight black dress with sequins that Red thought would have looked better on Lust. She complimented his suit. He complimented her shoes (humans liked that right?), trying to be sociable so he wouldn't get chewed out by the principle. She laughed (a fake, annoying laugh that only make him want to drink more), and he made a quick escape with the excuse of punch.

Another ten feet, and another teacher pulled him into conversation. Red bit back his irritation, and again played nice, hating himself for having to fake it, for being in a position where he was forced to fake it. She mentioned how nice he looked in a suit. This one, he complimented her hairpiece, something shiny that he thought a crow might want to make a nest with. Then he bolted.

It happened maybe four or five more times as he crossed the overly large room. Dance followed quietly beside him, close to his heels, his smile tense and his posture more rigid than it should have been. Red turned on him as soon as they reached the snack table, putting one hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "a'aight, kitten?" he whispered.

Dance put a hand on his wrist, sliding his thumb under the cuffs to rub at his carpals. "yeah. just-"

Dance was interrupted by a high pitched, nasally voice. He turned just in time to see an older woman with too much makeup and too much botox, approaching from the crowd. "Professor Serif! There you are! I'm so glad you could make it!" She batted her fake lashes at him, and Red snickered.

"heya, ya old bat. still kickin', eh?" Red responded casually, relaxing a bit. Another teacher from another district. She had a bit of a fascination with monsters, and a chronic flirt, but she was otherwise harmless. Also she had the best recommendations for new romance novels, and he was a sucker for a good romance.

"Oh, you kidder!" The woman chuckled, smiling warmly. "And don't you clean up nice! I hardly recognize you without that ratty old jacket! Who managed you get you all dressed up?"

"wasn't my idea, thats fer sure," Red admitted.

"Is there a lady waiting for you at home?" she asked. "Should I be jealous?"

"well, yeah, ya should be jealous, but they aint no ladies," Red snarked back, slinging his arm around Dance and pulling him closer. "are ya, kitten?"

Dance grinned tightly at the woman. "nope. sorry. no ladies here."

Red could hear in his voice that there was more Dance wanted to say.

"Oh!" The woman looked between Red and Dance, her expression going from shock to something more delighted. "I see! Well... Maybe you'd like a woman's touch some time?"

"nah. thanks for the offer, though," Dance hummed, voice quivering with false pleasantry. "red, hey, c'mere a sec. i gotta show ya something," He suddenly changed the subject, linking arms with Red and pulling him off in a seemingly random direction.

Red let himself be dragged, looking back at the woman and giving her a confused shrug so she knew he had _no fucking idea_ what was going on in Dance's head.

Dance lead them through the crowd right up to the bathroom doors, pulling Red inside the mens room. He looked around, and after assuring himself it was empty, threw Red into the handicap stall and closed it behind him, locking it.

"what th' fucks gotten int' ya?!" Red hissed, utterly confused and growing more irritated about it by the second.

"no, thats whats about to be into you," Dance answered, shoving Red face first into the wall, groping with his zipper and belt until he managed to drop the starched fabric to the floor. "and what did you expect? flirting with some random human women right in front of me? huh?"

"flirtin'?! who th' fuck was flirtin'?!" Red snarled, less concerned with being manhandled and stripped, and more concerned about the accusation. "i didn't do no fuckin' flirtin'!!"

"sure sounded like flirting," Dance hissed. "now hands on the wall, kneel down, and summon your magic for me."

Red obeyed on instinct, a pavlovian response ground into him by his own desire to please his datemates. He was on his knees in an instant, weight braced against the wall on his forearms, patella meeting the cold tile just as his dick and ass snapped into place around his pelvis. He growled at himself. "what th' fuck ya need this fer?! we're in fuckin' public!!"

"so you better keep quiet, huh kitten?" Dance rumbled, taking point right behind Red, making it hard for Red to see him even as he craned his neck to look behind him. He felt Dance's hand slide under his dress shirt, stroking at his spine as it moved to his floating ribs, breaking Red's train of thought with a jolt of pleasure. "its your own fault, looking so good in a suit and then flaunting it around."

Red vaguely began to think (when the sparks of heat and pleasure from Dance's hand would let him think at all) that this had less to do with him talking to the other teachers, and more to do with his wardrobe. "wasn't my idea t' wear no fuckin' s-" his voice cut out as he felt Dance's fingers start to prod at his entrance, working the muscles there, stretching him out. Red had to snap his teeth shut to keep in what would have been a humiliating noise.

"no, it was lust's," Dance admitted, speeding up his ministrations, each touch, each curl, each scratch, stoking the fire burning in Red's marrow and making it harder to think. "but are you really complaining?"

Dance's hands went still, and Red let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, panting hard as he leaned against the wall, shaking from the buildup. He honestly wasn't complaining about the turn of events, although he certainly didn't want to get caught. And if this made Dance feel better? It was worth the risk.

Dance resumed his assault, drawing another whimper out of Red. He hated how sensitive he was, how weak. He wondered how it was his pets put up with him when he couldn't even keep his voice down or his body still no matter how hard he tried. Dance leaned over him, panting against the back of his skull, his breath as hot as Red felt.

Dance must have figured he was prepared enough, because he pulled his fingers out and started to press his dick into him instead, slow and easy. Red wished he had his coat to bite into instead of the flimsy suit jacket. As it was, he had to grit his teeth and pray he could hold his voice in, which became increasingly more difficult as Dance went deeper, filling Red with that rush of euphoria, of waterfalls and ocean winds and the taste of an impending storm, lighting his senses and sending electric bolts of pleasure coursing through him.

Once Dance was fully sheathed in Red, he rolled his hips, dragging a whine out of Red. Dance purred, gripping onto Red's hips and pulling them upward, half asking, half forcing Red off of his knees and back onto his feet to better level himself with Dance. It made him have to step out of his pants with one leg, and spread himself out wider, likely putting himself on a shameless display. Dance murmured, "good kitten," sounding more than pleased, which by itself send a tremor through Red. The gentle petting against his legs and spine didn't help matters there, lulling him into a meditative state he could only ever reach when Dance or Lust could drag him there.

Then, without any warning, Dance began to piston into Red with vicious, wild abandon.

Red tried to bite back his moans, his pathetic mewling cries, but every sound, even the aborted ones, seemed loud to him, echoing against the tile. He tried focusing on his breathing (again, a difficult task when Dance was tearing him apart with overstimulation and building him back up again with breathy praises Red only half understood through the haze of pleasure), but even then his panting was loud and his voice escaped with each exhale.

Red was close to his release when the bathroom door opened with a loud squeak, and someone came in.

Dance and Red both froze at the sound, their analogue for adrenaline spiraling through them with fluttering palpations of their expanding and retracting rib cages, sweat dripping down their bones, soaking their clothes around the joints.

Red thought they would just wait it out, wait for the other guy to leave, then finish, but Dance seemed to have other plans. Dance reached under Red, gripping his as yet untouched member. Red bristled, clenching his jaw so hard it hurt with his efforts to keep silent. Dance squeezed gently, moving his hand slowly up and down Red's length. The feeling had Red wondering if bone could turn to jelly, because his legs felt like they would give out on him at any second. Dance's hand grew gradually bolder, his thumb teasing at the tip as his other hand massaged at Red's hip.

Not soon enough, the other person left.

Dance immediately resumed his punishing pace, one hand still pumping at Red's length, even harder and faster than before.

Red came, unable to suppress a moan, splattering his crimson release all over the bathroom wall. He felt Dance follow him shortly after, filling him with his magic.

Dance leaned hard against him, panting himself now. Red felt something shift in Dances's magic, felt a spark as something changed. Then he felt Dance pull away.

But Red could still feel Dance's member inside him, filling him, plugging up is entrance and keeping Dance's release inside him.

Red sank to the floor, giving his sore legs a moment to rest before trying to stand. "...fuck..."

"yeah," Dance answered idly, cleaning himself up, fixing his pants. "you alright?"

"yeah," Red muttered, reaching to grip the construct Dance had left inside him. He felt Dance's hand grip his wrist.

"leave it in for me," Dance said, low and musical. "its cold out there. keep it warm."

Red shivered, letting his arm go limp in his datemate's grip. It was times like this that made him realize that of the three of them, Dance was probably the kinkiest bastard. Not that Red minded. It didn't bother him any, one way or another. Just meant he knew what to do to keep Dance happy.

After getting his shit pulled together, blinking the colorful spots out of his vision and shaking off the aftershocks, Red stood up. He had to fudge around with his pants, made sure they fit right around his new assets. He was glad to see they had only become slightly wrinkled in the time they had been pooled around his ankles, and hadn't suffered much in terms of stains.

Now he just had to get through the rest of the night, keeping it that way.

Dance waited for Red to finish cleaning himself up, then gripped him by his collar and yanked him down for a long overdue kiss, which Red was more than happy to return. He purred, wrapping Dance up in his arms and pulling him closer, lifting him just that little bit off the ground as he reveled in the taste of his kitten, the pet _he_ took care of and _he_ pleased and _he_ made happy fuck you very much.

And his pet's happiness made anything worth the risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dance is the kinky one. I'm sorry but he is. He's the heavy dom who doesn't like other people hitting on his boyfriends and he has a possessive streak the size of texas.
> 
> *look back up at chapter*  
> Red is _totally not a sub_ right?  
>  R i g h t ? ?  
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> continued (kinda) in [Day 24: Imagination](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38373620)


	21. Day 20: Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dirty Talk
> 
> Pairing: Rust (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~1k of what basically amounts to a NSFW erotic ASMR script. and not even a very good one tbh
> 
> i'm just lazy and tired and needed a shitpost to fill today

Lust pulled on his headphones, settling in bed with a shiver of excitement, clutching his phone tightly in one hand. Red had made him a present, a recording he could listen to when he was lonely and nobody else was home.

Dance would be at work late. Red wouldn't be back for a few hours yet.

Lust hit the play button, relaxing as the white noise that marked the start of the recording buzzed to life in stereo, closing his eyes so he could pretend Red was right there, whispering against his skull.

_"damn, sweetheart, miss me already?"_ A deep, rumbling chuckle. _"how longs it been? bet it ain't been long at all. betcha i just walked out th' fuckin' door. cuz yer my insatiable lil slut, never gettin' enough o' me."_

Lust shivered, his empty hand drifting down to rub at his exposed spine, a soft sigh escaping him. Just hearing Red's voice was enough to get him going, that deep baritone and roughness the most delightful ASMR. Lust felt at ease, cradled by the familiar, soothing tones.

_"but that's a'aight, sweetheart. i gotcha. know just whatcha need. some'n' t' tide ya off, keep ya occupied. hows 'bout a preview o' what yer gonna get when i come home?"_ Another chuckle. _"like ya don't already know. like yer not already squirmin' just thinkin' about it."_

Lust WAS squirming by this point, back arched as he rubbed faster at his spine, whimpering softly, wishing it was Red's claws on him instead. Those cool, sharp fingertips always found his sweet spot, found those places that needed touched.

_"yer gonna be a sweaty, pantin' mess when i get back t' ya. 'n i'mma pin ya under me, make sure yer whole focus 's on me, on how i'mma touch ya, then imma take this pretty red tongue o' mine 'n clean ya up, inch by fuckin' inch. think i'll start with yer neck, drag a slow ass line up t' yer jaw 'n just hover there, lettin' ya feel me breath over ya, maybe drag my teeth against yer neck."_ A knowing snicker. _"bet that gotcha whinin', all high pitched 'n pathetic, my needy lil slut."_

Lust dropped the phone to the side, scratching lightly at the side of his cervical vertebrae, a poor substitute for the feel of Red's teeth, but the best he could do. He loved the feel of Red's teeth on him, the light grazes and the deep bites, the pain a delicious contrast to the pleasure that had him going cross eyed. He wanted that now, now, so much.

_"then i'mma go lower, over yer clavicle, over yer sternum, maybe drag my teeth again here 'n there, just t' hear ya make them pretty noises, watch ya squirm. go lower, then, if them tight pants o' yers ain't gone already, i'mma rip 'm clean off, shred 'm t' fuckin' pieces fer gettin' in my way."_ A deep, possessive growl rumbled. _"nothin' gets between me 'n my pet."_

Lust shook, shedding his pants and tossing them off the bed, his summoned magic twitching in the chill air, still not nearly cold enough to quell the heat inside him. He was sweating, shivering from the heat that seemed to grow ever higher, surging through him and demanding satisfaction.

_"then, then i'mma drink ya fuckin' dry. yer gonna be my personal fuckin' slurpee. gonna dig my fingers int' yer hips, hold ya down real still, 'n just go t' fuckin' town. i'mma be real fuckin' thirsty after workin' all day, pet. yer gonna fuckin' supply. over. n' over. n' over, 'till i fuckin' say so."_

Lust gripped his already weeping length, stroking it carelessly, gasping out his lover's name, pleading uselessly, knowing he wasn't really there to hear him, but unable to stop himself. "red..! nnnn, sweetheart, please..!"

_"but that ain't gonna be th' end o' it, pet. not by a fuckin' longshot. needy slut like you, ya ain't gonna be satisfied with a few dozen orgasms, are ya? nah, i'mma come up, lickin' yer essence off o' my teeth, 'n i'mma pull my shorts down, nice 'n slow, give ya a show. let ya stew in th' anticipation while i prepare yer favorite magic trick. maybe give it a few strokes, show off fer ya, make ya wait."_

Lust whined. "oh, stars, please, don't make me wait..!" He'd waited so long already. He needed it, needed him! God, Lust needed him so bad...!

Another dark chuckle. _"bet yer already beggin' fer it. gonna rub against ya, let ya feel it, then, oh, then..."_ Another snicker. _"then i'mma fuckin' wreck ya. gonna fill ya with me, so deep yer gonna be tastin' my essence in th' back o' yer throat, even as i make ya scream."_

Lust panted, heaving with it, shaking as he stroked himself harder, desperate to quell the heat surging through his marrow.

_"'n ya know as well as i do, sweetheart, it ain't gonna stop. i ain't gonna stop fuckin' yer brains out 'til there ain't nothin' left o' ya but pleasure 'n my name comin' out o' ya with a mantra o' pleas fer mercy. 'n ya ain't gonna know if ya want more 'r fer me t' stop cuz yer gonna be fuckin' drownin' in me, in what i do t' ya, in how good i make ya feel when no one else can. i'mma fuck ya so hard yer gonna ferget yer own goddamn name, so hard yer gonna ferget my name 'n call me god."_ Another chuckle. _"'n then i'mma remind ya th' name o' yer god, 'n make ya cum one last time on my dick."_

Lust groaned, pushing himself over the edge in a cruel, unsatisfying imitation of the release Red was describing to him, leaving him overly sensitive and still wanting.

_"'n after that? after that, yer m i n e ."_ Red growled low, and feral, and possessive. _"'n imma take care o' whats mine. so..."_ His tone lightened. _"so be a good lil pet, 'n wait fer me t' come home."_

Another pause.

_"...love ya, sweetheart."_

The recording ended. Lust whined, rolling onto his side and snuggling into Red's side of the bed, smelling him, hot and bothered and unable to think of anything except how much he wanted his mate. He quickly snatched his phone up, putting the recording on repeat so he could at least have that much as he waited for Red to come home.

At least he knew the wait would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry to disappoint but thats all i wrote for today


	22. Day 21: A Different Kind of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bukakke; Food Play; Suspension
> 
> Pairing: Horrortale Sans x Underlust Sans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~2k of another pairing i adore for reasons but probably wrote badly
> 
> i probably didn't cover the prompts the way they were intended either but oh well

Horror shivered in chill air of his kitchen, tugging uselessly on the chains that held his arms over his head, dangling from the rafters like some grotesque, shivering houseplant. He knew he wasn't that far off the floor, but being blindfolded had a way of distorting your other senses: he couldn't feel how high he was, not after hanging there for so long in the dark.

Yet it wasn't dark, not the bad dark, not the cold, lonely, hungry dark. No, this was a different kind of darkness, a comforting one, the kind of dark like when you closed your eyes and buried your face into a loved one's shoulder, dark, dark, dark, but also safe. It was a safe dark. How long had it been since Horror had felt _safe?_

And he could feel Kink's feverish heat pressed into his back, Kink's burning hands going up and down his naked body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Horror hitched his breath at a particularly gentle touch (gentle, gentle, everything about it was gentle, so warm, so affectionate, he could barely breath). Kink's teeth against his scapulae, Kink's phalanges curled around his delicate lumbar, rubbing, rubbing, soothing the marrow-deep ache of hunger with warmth and gentle petting.

And worst of all, oh, worst of all, the smell. The smell of food. It was everywhere. It was driving him near to madness, all that food smell. The dark madness, the red madness, the emptiness that beckoned like a jilted lover, demanding he succumb, that he lose himself because he was empty, would always be empty, always hungry, _hungry, hungry-_

Then Kink's fingers toyed with his sacrum foramen, gentle, gentle, coaxing, and his other hand pet his quivering, aching midriff, replacing the pain with a soothing, pleasant heat and dragging him back to the other kind of madness, the good kind, the kind where his skull filled with relaxing, white static, and his body relaxed, and he felt the tingles of pleasure build ever higher.

The relief of it drew a whine from Horror's throat.

Kink purred, another soothing, gentle sensation, quivering against his back. "thats it, baby... you're doing so good~ being so patient~ its almost done~"

Horror whined again, panting, because he could feel that _he_ was almost done. He'd been so close for so long, Kink's masterful hands working him into a frenzy that drained all the fight (all the emptiness, all the hurt, all the confusion, all the desire to overthink which he couldn't even do without making his skull ache and his memories itch) right out of him. Not that he'd wanted to fight, exactly, not that that hadn't been the plan. Horror knew the plan. He knew what he got like sometimes when he ate. He knew why the rule was he had to eat alone (not an actual rule, but it might as well have been one, just like all the other castle rules: keep all the doors closed; stay out of the kitchen; don't go into the west wing; never run in the halls; all those little rules you learned to follow if you wanted to live in this castle of irreverent bastards).

But Kink was an exception to the rules. So now he was being an exception for Horror. Today Horror was going to have company. He wouldn't eat alone tonight. He wouldn't _be_ alone tonight.

Horror's nonexistent stomach growled again. He clenched his fists against the pain of it, straining against the chains, only to find his body once more going limp as Kink's attentions, his massages, his intent, soothed it away. Kink hummed happily. "ok, sweetie, dinner's ready~" he murmured into Horror's neck. Horror felt Kink's legs both wrap around his waist (likely Kink was sitting on the table behind him), his feet coming up to sandwich (heh, _sandwich_ ) his aching member, so far left untouched. Horror could feel silky socks rub deliciously (heh _delicious_ ly) against him, his body bucking into it reflexively.

Kink chuckled again, shifting his grip on Horror so one hand was still on his lumbar, and the other was around his cervical vertebrae. "okay, baby, open wide~"

And Horror smelled it, the scent of steaming, freshly grilled meat, and ketchup, and fluffy bread. There was a hotdog in front of him. A hotdot. A _hotdog_ , no it might not be a _hotdog_ it might be a _headdog_ , and he swore it, he would never- never- but he was _hungry,_ so fucking hungry, and it was _right there-_ it was _right there-!_

The darkness started turning red.

Then Kink's feet began to move, slow and gentle, gentle, so gentle, against his magic, sparking euphoric friction that ripped through his body in a wave of electrical sparks and whiteness; Kink's warm hand on his bones, rubbing sweetly, soothingly, as if to clean away the red from his mind with every little circular motion. The madness receded under the pressure of the pleasure Kink drew from him, out of him, through him. Horror relaxed back into the other's arms, unclenching the fists he hadn't remembered making, not that his memory was that great (not like it had been, not like he could almost taste it was supposed to be, that it might still be behind the wall of _wrong_ that never really went away in the back of his fractured, incomplete mind).

The smell of food drew him back to the task at hand. Horror leaned his head forward, taking a leap of faith he thought he'd lost a long time ago, and drew the item into his mouth. The flavors exploded on his tongue, tomato, vinegar, wheat, and that unmistakable not-quite-meat-but-still-meaty taste of a water sausage. It was utterly blissful. It was a hotdog, a real hotdog just like he almost-remembered.

Horror moaned around the treat, savoring it, letting himself enjoy it after so long of being unable to enjoy food (even when he had it, because even if he had it now how could he enjoy it if he wasn't there).

With a suddenly aggressive energy, Kink's hands and feet worked in earnest, shoving him towards the edge he'd been teetering on for the past half hour. His back arched, his skull rang with a white noise that drowned out all of his hazy half-formed thoughts, and Horror had to swallow the bite he'd taken before he screamed out his climax, feeling his own magic splatter himself, splashing his bones in hot liquid magic he could almost imagine was still the blue it was meant to be. The heat, the warmth, the pleasure, the safety; Horror hung there, trying to process it all, and for once, not the least bit upset at feeling overwhelmed.

"keep eating, sweetie," Kink panted against his back, purring loudly. "theres more where that came from~"

Horror didn't argue, smelling the still unfinished hotdog. He scarfed it down, groaning appreciatively (whether at the taste of real food, or the way Kink's talented fingers worked him through the afterglow, smearing his release over his ribs and spine, he didn't know). Another hotdog took its place, and this time Horror did not hesitate; he bit into it, taking his sweet time, savoring the moment, a moment when food didn't make him space out, didn't make the world turn red or the shadows bigger or his body hurt. It was a moment he could enjoy eating for its own sake, and dissociate it from desperate, terrifying survival, there in the safe, warm dark and Kink's arms.

Three hotdogs in, and Kink wrested another climax out of him, angling Horror's dick so he once more splattered his own magic over himself. Horror made a noise he didn't realize he could make, high pitched and trembling, almost like that of prey. If he wasn't half crazed with pleasure, he might have been upset over it, but as it was, he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. He wasn't hurt anymore, he was warm, he was safe, and he _wasn't hungry_. Who gave a shit what stupid noises he made?!

"okay sweetie~" Kink cooed, still relentlessly stoking the fire in his marrow that grew stronger as he was fed, energized. "how about some french fries? hmm~?"

Horror panted heavily, finally finding his voice. "oh, fuck..." Although clearly not his eloquence.

"i'll take that as a yes~" Kink said with a barely suppressed giggle, and then Horror could smell it, greasy salted deliciousness, bringing back memories of good food and bad laughs and great friends he was certain he would never have again, could never have again, but here he was with something that was almost that same thing. Almost. But maybe something closer. Something more.

Who would have thought a freak like Kink could _know_ , could understand, what it was like to always want, always need, even when he didn't anymore, shouldn't anymore, like his body had been trained to hurt for it, yearn for it, beg for it? (Maybe Horror should have, might have, if thinking too hard didn't hurt so much -- maybe he would have even said he was sorry, if he didn't already know the words would come out flat, emotionless, wrong, and that Kink probably already understood better than he could ever express).

Horror shook his head, shook the thoughts away, and leaned forward to slurp up the fry he could smell being offered him. One by one, piece by piece, he went through them, the satisfaction of consumption followed closely behind by the heat and the pleasure Kink drew from his hollow body. He must have eaten an entire serving of them by the time Kink drew him through another orgasm, and another layer of liquid magic splattered over his ribs.

Horror barely had time to catch his breath before he smelled it, a _burger_ , huge and meaty and absolutely drowning in ketchup and grease, right _there_ , so close, so _close_!! He leaned in for it, salivating for it, only to bite into empty air, the meal just out of reach. He snarled, struggling against his bindings, not seeing red, feeling too good, too safe, too full to see red, but wanting that fucking burger. "oh, now yer jusht- jusht-" his voice slurred, either from the overabundance of saliva, which dribbled down his chin, or from the overloaded connections in his skull, making it hard to think well enough to enunciate. He couldn't be certain. He didn't care.

"teasing?" Kink finished for him, gripping his spine harder, bringing his other hand down to go into his ribcage and scratch unfairly at his inner surfaces. "yes, maybe a little~ but its okay, it's okay..." Kink kissed at his scapulae, nibbling lightly, playfully, distracting him so he couldn't prepare for the way Kink's feet began to work on his member with a vigor. Horror leaned into it, feeling how his whole body curled, from head to toe, how his SOUL twisted and fluttered inside him, ready to burst once more.

So close, _so close, so close_ -

And then the burger brushed against his teeth, and Horror bit into it. The flavors, the grease, the experience of enjoying something so goddamn filling, the intent oozing from Kink's body to make him feel good, feel safe, feel himself - it was too much. Horror couldn't even rip a chunk out of the burger; just biting in, getting that taste, was enough to have him screaming, moaning around the mouthful and coming harder than before, drenching himself in his own magic for the only-god-knows-how-many-ith-time that night (because Horror sure as hell wasn't keeping count).

This time Kink didn't let up, wringing wave after soul melting wave of pleasure out of Horror as he hung there, a burger in his mouth, trying to eat it but also moaning, left unable to really do anything except enjoy the taste and the touch and the smell for what felt like an eternity. When the sheer pressure of it let up enough that Horror could function, he scarfed down the burger with ravenous gusto, groaning as he got to appreciate the layers of flavor and the texture changes and how fulfilling it was to be conscious of eating. He came, _again_ , on the last bite, almost choking but not letting himself waste a single crumb.

Horror didn't know how long he hung there, shuddering through the afterglow, but the next thing he knew he was laying on his back, propped up by something soft and warm under his head, a gentle, so gentle, always gentle hand smoothing over his skull, careful never to get too close to the hole on his left side. The blindfold was still in place, but Horror didn't mind. He was _full_ , he was _warm_ , he was _safe_ , and this was the kind of darkness he never wanted to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hc Horror probably disassociates when he eats because of Trauma™ (and a disassociated Horror is a dangerous Horror, hense why nobody eats with him), but when Kink's got him all hot and bothered and hyper-focused on feeling good, he cant disassociate and he gets to enjoy food
> 
> Horror and Kink are a lot alike too, tbh; they're both always "hungry", both of their states half-self-inflicted and half-out-of-necessity-for-survival and both driven to do crazy things to sate that hunger.


	23. Day 22: The End of a Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Impact Play; Hand-Jobs; Threesome (or more)
> 
> Pairing: Burlesque (Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans x Underlust Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, aftercare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~1.4k of mostly aftercare. not gonna lie. this started out dark and unfair
> 
> also i probably didn't hit the prompts like you might have expected either. might be a miss. >.<

Red surveyed the scene in front of him. Lust was standing with his arms over his head, loose, padded handcuffs keeping his wrists linked together, his legs spread apart. He was naked, drenched in sweat, his ectobiology summoned from his false ribs to his patella (more than he usually put the effort into, more than Red himself ever had). Red wasn't one for fleshy bits, but on Lust?

Well... Lust was the exception that proved the rule.

And so, apparently, was Dance, who was standing behind Lust, a leather paddle in one hand, tapping it lazily on the palm of the other as he surveyed their shared lover.

_It would have been hot as fuck if it weren't for the reason they were there._

Lust was having one of his not-so-good days, the kind of bad day where his whole body hurt and he just wanted it to stop: when he didn't want to be touched, but he also didn't want to stop being touched. Red and Dance had both been hesitant to set up any kind of scene at all, the way Lust had shuddered just forming his magic, but Lust had asked them for help and they weren't gonna leave him to suffer. They were at least going to try.

Red stood in front of him, tugging tightly at his collar with one hand, rough and persistent (and hopefully distracting), while his other hand slowly, carefully, stroked at Lust's swollen, tender length. "i gotcha sweetheart. we gotcha. how ya doin'?"

Lust took a shuddered breath. He didn't need to say anything. The look on his face, pained but grateful, said it all -- it still hurt, but not the good kind of hurt, the kind of hurt that made Red's crusty black SOUL twist anxiously. He leaned forward, pressing his frontal bone to his pet's. "ya ready t' try again?"

"please," Lust whined, nuzzling back, frustrated tears pricking at his sockets and sliding down his cheeks. He looped his cuffed arms over Red's head, pulling him closer, clinging for support. Red looked at Dance over Lust's head, the hand that had been on Lust's collar coming around to cup at the back of Lust's skull, holding him there, a futile attempt to shield him from all the bad things in the world.

Dance nodded, jaw clenched tight in a mirror of the same helpless anger Red felt buzzing on the fringes of his own soul (anger that they were both so limited in how they could make Lust's pain go away). He shifted his weight, bringing the paddle gently down across Lust's bruised rear, rubbing gently at it, before bringing it down hard, making a loud sound upon impact. Lust flinched in Red's hold, yelping.

"h-harder, please, fuck, harder," Lust begged, hiding in Red's coat like he could hide from his own discomfort.

Dance complied, bringing the paddle down harder, on the other side. Lust yelped again, but this time Red felt a little spark in Lust's magic. Dance must have felt it too, because he began to strike in earnest, quick and powerful. Red squeezed a bit tighter at Lust's shaft, a silent question.

He was so thankful when he heard a moan instead of a whimper.

Just to be certain that Lust was distracted form the bad pain, Red leaned down a bit further, nipping gently at Lust's clavicle, questioning. Lust clung to him tighter, murmuring pleas between gasps and cries. Red bit down, lightly at first, but then harder, deeper, until he could taste Lust's overly agitated magic welling in his mouth, burning hot and bubbling like a carbonated drink that had been violently shaken. He made his hand start to pump faster, dragging his claws along Lust's summoned skin, trying to smear the pre that had only just begun to flow all over it to smooth the friction.

"color," Dance demanded.

"orange!" Lust wheezed. "orange, orange, please, don't stop, so close-!" He sobbed, shivering so hard against Red he would have fallen over if not for his support.

Dance struck again, and Red felt the false flesh in his hand quiver and throb, moments before a scream ripped itself from Lust's nonexistent throat as he came, sobbing with relief and babbling breathless words of gratitude.

Red carefully pried his teeth from Lust's shoulder, licking apologetically at the marks he'd left behind. The hand that had, until that point, not left Lust's dick, let go and instead rubbed at Lust's thoracic spine, right between his scapulae. "any better, sweetheart?" He asked, looking down the slope of Lust's back to see the bruises Dance had made. They were almost artistic, splotches of darker purples decorating Lust's usual amethyst glow, gradating to deep blues and reds, most of them edged in a thoughtful golden tinge.

"yeah," Lust hummed. "all better. so much better..." his voice was soft, a little hoarse from crying.

Dance put the paddle down, coming around to unhook the cuffs from Lust's wrists. Red tightened his grip, then shifted it to a maidenstyle hold, sweeping Lust's shaky legs up out from under him and cradling him closer.

"then bath," Dance declared, tossing the cuffs into a corner to be put away later, before darting to the bathroom to fill the tub.

Red chuckled, watching as Lust slowly let his magic fade, leaving him a bundle of sweaty bones in Red's arms. Red was relieved for it. It meant it really didn't hurt anymore and Lust wasn't lying for their sake. Red carried him into the bathroom, where Dance had quickly started a sparkly bubble bath, shimmering green with the healing magic of a monster bath bomb. He started stripping himself, hesitating with his hoodie like he always did, still less than comfortable showing off his bare ribs.

Red stared blatantly, eyelight fixed on that elegant curve that sliced through Dance's right side, smirking.

Dance flipped him off, before tossing his socks into a corner and getting in the tub, gesturing for Red to pass their mutual lover. Red carefully settled Lust in Dance's lap, making sure Dance had a good grip before backing up to strip his own clothes away, hanging his coat up on a hook to be used later. Then Red settled behind Dance, against the wall, desperately glad that they had gotten an apartment with a big ass bathtub.

Dance leaned back into Red's chest, making sure to hold Lust up so his head stayed above water. It wasn't like they could drown, but it wasn't comfortable. Red flicked his wrist, turning the water off with a bit of BLUE magic once it got high enough.

They just sat there, soaking in the warm water together, letting the sweat and other fluids wash away. Dance used a washcloth to get Lust's face clean. Red carefully tended to the bite mark with a different cloth, grateful for the healing magic in the bath. His other arm curled around Dance body, holding him closer, scratching lightly at his ribs in a soothing, slow motion. He smiled, feeling tension bleed from his other pet, knowing this had been just as stressful for him as it was for Red (maybe more so, given the circumstances). Red pressed his teeth to the side of Dance's skull, then his bare neck, then his clavicle.

Dance's free hand came up to cup at Red's jaw. Red watched fondly as Dance pressed his own teeth to Lust's frontal bone, nuzzling, his intent to soothe and comfort echoed back to Red through Lust's collar.

Red tightened his grip on them both and made himself start purring (even if it was embarrassing, he knew they both liked it for whatever reason). The answering harmonic trills his pets gave him was reward enough.

It was only after the water started to get cold that Dance declared bath time over. Red got out first, then pulled Lust out, wrapping him in a fluffy yellow towel. Lust made a soft noise, not quite awake and aware, but certainly not asleep either. Red doubted he'd been asleep at any point, just too exhausted to do much besides exist. He certainly knew the feeling.

Red waited patiently for Dance to dry himself off and throw one of the spare t-shirts they kept in the towel closet over his head. Then Lust was passed to Dance, and Red went back into the bedroom to pull on a pair of boxers. He didn't bother with a shirt, just slinking off to the kitchen to start cooking up comfort food. He knew Lust really enjoyed that burrito recipe Red had gotten out of Razz (which in and of itself had been a feat of sheer determination that he still can't figure out how he succeeded), so he started on that, trusting Dance to follow protocol and get them both in the livingroom for Couch Time™.

When Red finally came out, he found both of his pets curled up on the couch, laying on each other, his coat draped over them like a lumpy blanket (because of course it was, they loved that thing almost as much as he did), a cheesy rom-com (Lust's favorite) already playing. Red settled in, lifting Dance's head so he could sit down and have them both use him as a pillow, setting their dinner on the coffee table for when they were ready for it.

Bad days didn't always have to end badly. Not Lust's, not Dance's, and (Red was learning) not his either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just imagine that being in constant heat comes with issues like overstressed magic. but that doesn't mean lust still doesn't need regular release, it just means that some days are Bad Days and getting the stimuli he needs to get his release is Bad Stimuli. but he still needs it. so they think of ways to make it bearable, to make it easier, to make it even enjoyable (thankfully lust is a masochist and he can be distracted from Bad Pain by Good Pain)
> 
> but then there needs to be, like, mega fluffy aftercare and that means bath and couch time and cuddles and comfort food and cheesy movies. because after a scene like that they _all_ need a little bit of relaxation (cuz dom drop is a thing too)
> 
> maybe i'm just overthinking things idk this just happened though
> 
> why can't i just shitpost shameless smut why does it have to be like this wtf brain


	24. Day 23: Just Ribbons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Scars; Shibari; Size Difference
> 
> Pairing: Burlesque (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans x Dancetale Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: Dom/sub; Threesome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~3k of my OT3. because i felt sick and it makes me feel better

"thank you for letting us try this, sweetie~" Lust couldn't help but purr as he fixed the eye mask into place on Red's skull. Lust could feel the way Red's body went immediately lax, deprived of sight and focused on himself and Dance. Red nuzzled his skull into Lust's lap, keeping his arms at his sides like Dance had asked earlier, breathing slow and easy as he laid face down for them. Lust ran his hand over Red's skull, thumbing the calcification over the large, old head-wound, watching Red shiver from that alone.

"no biggie," Red mumbled. "might just fall asleep tho..."

Dance snickered. "if ya can, go right ahead and sleep through it, kitten."

Red snorted. "just ribbon..."

Lust smiled wider, curling his finger under Red's jaw and scratching lightly, getting his larger boyfriend to purr. "yup~ just~ ribbon~"

Dance grinned almost devilishly, straddling Red and getting to work. He took the long, soft green ribbon, winding it around Red's humeri, over and over in a crisscross pattern, slowly tightening it until Red's arms were pinned tightly behind him. Then Dance started to lace Red's forearms, winding the ribbon between his radii and ulnae until they were a latticework that would rub with even the slightest movement. His hands didn't quite touch, tied straight behind him as they were, but they weren't meant to be.

As Dance worked, Lust watched Red's expressions, watched how the scratches and chips in his arms began to glow as they were caressed by the ribbon, how his breathing began to quake, his face dust over in a pretty pink. He smirked knowingly at Dance, thumbing at Red's false tooth, something he knew always got to him (like a lot of other things, Red was so sensitive and receptive it was unreal).

Dance was just as appreciative of their shared datemate as Lust was, given how bright his cheeks were glowing. He paused after finishing with Red's arms, leaning back to admire his work so far. "ok, kitten, still with us?"

Red took a deep breath. "yeah," he answered, soft, rough, not as confident as he had been.

"you're doing great, sweetheart," Lust assured him, meaning it.

"test the give for me," Dance ordered, gently. "is it too tight? does anything hurt?"

Red hesitated, before lightly moving his arms, tugging gently at the ribbons at first, then a bit harder. Lust and Dance could both see when Red pulled hard enough to make the ribbon rub against him, because he stiffened, his body breaking out into a flash sweat, the scars on his arms glowing brighter, showing through the material in hazy strips of contrasting color. "...no, nothin' hurts," he finally answered.

Dance rubbed approvingly at Red's sacrum, earning a soft noise of surprise. "alright, then we'll move on to the next part."

Dance continued to wind the ribbon through and around Red's claws, lacing it between his metacarpals and phalanges, meaning every twitch and jerk of his hand would cause the ribbon to move. There was still plenty of ribbon left even after that, which Dance showed off to Lust proudly, giving Red a break. Red was rattling softly now, his senses focused on how the soft fabric rubbed against him, the sound of Dance's heavy, excited breathing, the feel of Lust's hand that never left his skull, ever present to soothe his irrational fears and remind him that it was okay to let go, to enjoy it. Lust couldn't help the rumbling, delighted purr he made to join Red's. Seeing him like this, trusting, vulnerable, giving himself to them without hesitation, it made that intoxicating feeling of love in Lust's SOUL swell exponentially. The beautiful lightshow he made was just icing on the cake.

Dance hooked the ribbon ends to a blunted needle, and began to carefully, slowly thread the ribbon through Red's sacrum foramen. Red's face lit up brighter than a giftmas light, a tremulous gasp ripping out of him (the noise that he made when he was trying to suppress a moan, a noise that made Lust's knees weak and his SOUL flutter and his magic ache in the best way). Red's whole body shook with the force he was trying to use to hold still, rattling harder, causing the ribbons to shift and his breath to hitch.

Dance paused, running his hand over the curve of Red's ilium. "you're doing great, kitten. color?"

Lust watched his sweetheart struggle for words. He ran his thumb over the heated bone of his maxilla, over the brilliant ruby hue that had taken over his face. Red shivered, nuzzling his face more into Lust's lap, panting, pink saliva dripping from his teeth to pool on Lust's leather pants. After a few wordless noises of strain, he finally choked out, "o-orange," in that deep, tremulous voice that meant he was getting close. Just hearing it had an instant effect on Lust, signaling for his magic to snap to attention around his pelvis, straining against the his pants.

Dance seemed to affected similarly, given the glow now showing through the thinner fabric of his pants. "feels that good, huh?" he asked, knowingly, a rumbling, victorious chuckle of his own bubbling up. "thats okay. it's supposed to. you just keep on enjoying it, kitten. you're doing so good. just hold still for me a little longer..."

Lust smirked, rubbing soothingly at the back of Red's neck, under the collar. This was such a good show, he could barely contain himself. If Red wasn't in his lap, he'd probably be rubbing himself instead of petting Red.

Dance threaded through the next hole, slow and careful and deliberate. Red shook violently, rattling as he fought to stay still, another deliciously unfair noise wrenched out of him forcefully, soft and tremulous and addicting, followed by gasps for air, for grounding, for something to help keep himself pulled together behind that last, flimsy wall of self control. Lust could see it, flickers of gold starting to shine through the scars on Red's body, the first sign of progress towards his and Dance's ultimate goal.

Lust must have made a noise himself, because Dance looked up at him. "you doing alright over there, babe?"

Lust smiled at him. "just, heh, excited."

Dance looked him over a moment, pausing from his own personal fun to check on Lust (he was so considerate that way, always checking in on the both of them, making sure they were alright, comfortable). Then he looked down at Red. "kitten, think you can help lust out a bit? with that tongue of yours?"

Red took a moment to breath, then turned his head the other way, so he was facing Lust's crotch instead of his knees. "y-yeah..."

"remember your tapout?" Dance asked, just to be certain. Lust loved that about him, which of course only made the trill in his magic more persistent.

"yeah," Red huffed, started to breath a bit easier, taking this chance to calm himself after being worked up so much, the intensity of the light in his joints and scars and face fading slightly.

Lust undid his belt and zipper, freeing his erection. The heat of it must have been strong enough for Red to feel, because he immediately probed for it with his tongue, the soft scarlet appendage snaking out to drag across Lust's heated false flesh. Lust moaned shamelessly at the sudden relief of it, Red's magic a soothing balm against his own. After a few tentative licks, Lust lowered his head down level with Red's teeth, which opened invitingly. Red took in the first inch without issue, licking and sucking at the head, enveloping Lust in his soothing essence. His razor teeth only pressed slightly into his summoned skin, light and careful, dragging distractingly against the sides as Red bobbed his head a bit (not much, he was still trying not to move for Dance, but just those little micromotions were enough to sent electric sparks up Lust's spine).

Lust put his hand back on Red's skull, holding it there, petting. "oh, yes... right there... thank you sweetheart... you're doing so good... so good..." Red's scars and face lit right back up at the praise, his tongue working harder in genuine earnest. Lust groaned, throwing is head back and fighting down the immediate urge to finish in Red's mouth to no avail. With a soft cry, he climaxed, filling Red with his magic. Red made a muffled noise of surprise, almost gagging on it, before starting to swallow. Some of the purple liquid magic dripped down his chin in a trail alongside his saliva.

The sight nearly sent Lust over the edge again.

Red drank what he could, then started panting through his nasal aperture, chest heaving with it. Lust blinked spots (and he assumed hearts) out of his eyes, then gave Dance the 'go' signal to continue his work.

Dance threaded the next hole in Red's sacrum. With Lust's dick still in his mouth, Red couldn't quite stifle his noises anymore. His moans traveled through Lust's magic, the vibrations going straight to his core and lighting a new fire inside his SOUL.

"oh, _god_ ," Lust gasped at the sensation, clawing at the back of Red's skull, fighting not to trust the rest of the way down his conjured throat, to feel the way his false muscles fluttered with it.

"thats it," Dance hummed, eyelights fixed on Red's face just like Lust's was, watching how embarrassment made their shared lover shine like a ruby in the darkness, occasionally sparking with gold. "just let go. its okay to like it, kitten. we wanna hear ya."

"you're doing so good, sweetheart," Lust praised, meaning every word as he stroked over Red's skull, scratching under his jaw with his other hand.

Dance threaded through the next sacrum foramen, one of the smaller ones towards the tail end near Red's coccyx. Lust could almost feel how Red's eyelight rolled into the back of his skull under the blindfold, his mewling cry escaping from around his summoned length.

And just like that, finally, Lust got to see it: Red's magic shifted, the beautiful ruby hues now contrasted with vibrant golds and emeralds, shifting and shimmering from every crack and scar on Red's body, the scent of watermelon wafting off of him in a heavy wave. _It was so fucking beautiful, he was so beautiful like this,_ Lust could barely stand it.

Dance groaned softly, an appreciative noise rumbling in his ribcage. "there it is. thats right, kitten. just let go. relax..." he purred, reaching up to grip around Red's lumbar vertebrae and pump languidly. Red let out another whine, approving but wanting more.

"oh, red, sweetie," Lust breathed, sliding his hand under and around the ribbons to rub little circles in the spiderweb cracks in Red's scapula, dipping the tips of his distal phalanges into that vivid rainbow light. Red groaned happily, shivering under his touch.

Dance knelt there, raking his eyelights up and down Red's body, drinking in the sight with just as much appreciation and enthusiasm as Lust felt, before continuing his work. He threaded the last four foramen, working just as slowly and carefully as before. Each drag of the fabric against Red's bones earned them an unreserved, mewling cry. Lust had to pull himself out of Red's mouth after the first one, knowing if he didn't he'd come again from both the sound and the feel. Red's tongue tried to follow after him, shimmering a deep green, but he refused to move forward more than that (still obeying Dance's order to remain still). Without Lust's magic to muffle him, Red's voice was almost musical, deep and smooth and unfettered by pride or inhibition.

Dance finished the last bit of his sacrum lacing, winding the ribbon ends around Red's apex before tying it off in a neat little bow. "there. all done, kitten. test that out for me."

Red slowly started to shift, tugging lightly at his bindings. Every little motion made the ribbon shift on both his arms and his sacrum, drawing soft cries from him as he squirmed.

"how do you feel, sweetheart?" Lust asked, soft and gentle.

"...good," Red rumbled, the intonation somewhere between monotonous and like he was having trouble articulating coherent words. "safe..."

Lust purred at the admission, wiping a bit of drool from Red's jaw affectionately.

Dance rubbed at both of Red's iliac crests, thumbing at his ala. "ok. you ready to move, kitten? that was just the setup."

Red hummed appreciatively at the obviously welcome touch, making a wordless noise of affirmation.

Dance scooted over to Red's side, sliding his arms under Red's ribcage and helping him get to his knees, Red keened, panting, as every little motion set his overstimulated body reeling, the ribbons tugging and teasing at his sensitive bones. Lust slid out from under him, tugging off his pants and tossing them away off the edge of the bed. Dance guided Red into position, murmuring praises, until Red loomed over Lust, helpless and unguarded.

Lust opened his arms, and Dance guided Red down so he was kneeling on him, Red's head cradled against Lust's shoulder, his hips in the air. Lust kissed at Red's clavicle, his jaw, holding him close and steady. Lust groaned at the feel of Red's teeth pressed into his own clavicle, the pressure of his breath on his shoulder as he panted, trembling and uncertain, not knowing what came next. Lust cooed into his acoustic meatus. "you're doing so good, sweetheart. so good. now for the fun part," he all but promised, hooking his legs around Red's waist.

"form your magic for us, kitten," Dance commanded, taking his spot between Red's legs, behind him.

Red responded immediately, his thick, trembling member and puckered hole snapping into place, shimmering in a swirl of crimson and yellow and verdant light.

Lust watched Dance's expression over Red's shoulder. He licked his teeth at the sight, probably thinking about the taste they both had come to adore. Dance shook his head, reaching down to grip Red's now weeping length, and line it up to Lust's own entrance. "ease in, for me," He ordered (the sadist, looking Lust in the eye with a knowing smirk, fully aware Lust was already aching for it and wanted it hard).

Red moved his hips, whining at the rush of sensations and the pressure as he began to sheath himself, slow and easy, into Lust's magic. Lust tightened his grip, going cross-eyed from the sizable intrusion, moaning his lovers' names. He reflexively clenched around Red, wringing another moan out of him. "please, faster..!" Lust whimpered.

Red stopped his progress entirely, whining, shaking and uncertain.

Lust stopped, realizing his mistake instantly; _Red wanted to please both of them,_ and Lust had just contradicted what Dance said he wanted. Red wasn't in a state of mind to make judgement calls. Lust backpedaled, kissing at Red's jaw and cooing softly. "shh, sweetie, it's okay, you're okay... you're doing good..."

Dance loomed over them, gripping hold of Red's collar and tugging gently. He shot Lust an exasperated look, before turning his attention back to Red. "stop for a moment, kitten. color?"

Red took a shuddered breath. "orange."

Dance nodded, smiling. "you did great. leave the rest to us, ok?" he hummed, using his other hand to free his own member, shining a vivid azure.

Lust couldn't see it, but Red's reactions told him the whole story: Dance fingered at his entrance, drawing a cry from him, making him tremble and shake and rattle as this new form of stimulation overwhelmed him, tears dripping down his face from under the blindfold. Dance started with one finger, then two, stretching Red out carefully, before pressing his own length into their mate with a relieved sigh.

Dance let Red adjust, one minute, then two, rubbing at his hips. Then Dance started to pound into him. The force of it had Red hilting into Lust. Red screamed, clamping his teeth down into Lust's shoulder and crying out with a ragged, trembling voice. Lust felt him come inside him, and combined with the thrust, that sent Lust into his own orgasm.

Dance set a heavy pace, thrusting into Red with enough force to rock all three of them back and forth. Lust quickly lost the majority of his mind to the pleasure, screaming right along with Red as he was filled and stretched, filled and smothered in watermelon and winter, in rushing water and ocean winds, in warmth and chill and love and a sense of completion he didn't know was possible to reach.

When Lust could finally blink the spots out of his vision, shake the ringing from his skull, and again take in his surroundings, he found Dance undoing the last of Red's bindings, tossing the sweat drenched ribbon haphazardly to one side and carefully easing Red's arms into a more natural place. Red immediately clung to Lust, rolling onto his back and nuzzling. He was still a spectacle of color, shimmering and shaking and panting, his grip on Lust so weak Lust couldn't help but wonder how he managed to move at all.

Dance snuggled into Red's other side, draping himself over both of them with a tired but contented sigh. "color?" he asked in a soft voice, rough and low compared to his usual timbre.

"orange," Lust and Red answered at the same time. Lust giggled, kissing at Red's sternum as he reached to grasp at Dance's hand. Dance gripped back, squeezing once before the pressure went slack.

Lust first felt Red drift off, his breathing slowing down to a rhythmic lull even as his overstimulated magic pulsed and shimmered over him. Dance made a happy sort of hum, murmuring what might have been a "love ya," before he too lost consciousness.

Lust stayed awake, basking in the afterglow, unwilling to let the moment end until he could no longer fight the sweet embrace of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuuuuup Red is _totally_ not a sub. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) _Totally_.
> 
> God I love them:  
> • Dance being a good caring dom and checking in on them, making the calls he needs to make so they all can enjoy it  
> • Lust being the good switch and watching out for both of them  
> • Red being ~~a good sub~~ all trusting and willing to do whatever they want even when he has no fucking clue


	25. Day 24: Imagination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Shower/Bath; Leather
> 
> Pairing: none  
> \- mentioned Krumping (Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans)  
> \- mentioned Burlesque (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans x Dancetale Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: Collars; Masterbation; Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~1.2k of Lust masterbating/fantasizing (because my brain isn't giving me anything better to write with this days prompts and i don't have the time to puzzle out something else sry)
> 
> a continuation/reference/companion to [Day 19: Worth the Risk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151495/chapters/38236160)

Lust sank into the bathtub, sighing contentedly. Red and Dance were still at that social event, probably both wishing they could come home faster. Lust chuckled to himself, easily able to picture Red's trademark predatory smirk, Dance's strained customer service smile, both hiding the utter boredom they were likely drowning in.

Lust probably could have told them Pink had canceled on him last night over text, something about a surprise interview for TonTon's show, but he didn't want to intrude. Red and Dance hardly ever went out together, just the two of them. Even if it was to something dull, it was better than nothing.

And it meant Lust could try and do some of the alone time activities that had fallen by the wayside. He surprised himself finding how much he missed just soaking in a bubblebath and doing a word puzzle.

The water hadn't even gotten cold when Lust felt it - the unmistakable signal of intent surging through the collar he and Dance had made for Red together (with Boss' help). Someone was incredibly interested in Red. Someone had every intention of making Red scream. That someone was most definitely Dance, filled with a territorial possessiveness that was likely driving him wild, demanding he remind their shared datemate who he belonged to (as if Red would ever forget).

Lust threw his head back, the vivid imagery dancing (heh) in his head, his imagination more than capable of picturing the scenario:

_Maybe they were sitting at a table together, and someone had come talk to Red? Dance might just duck under the table and start to drink Red dry, deep-throating him like a pro until Red was a sputtering mess who couldn't keep his head up. Red would try to play it off as him being so bored he could fall asleep. His face would be bright as a giftmas light. He'd probably snarl and snap at anyone who asked about it. Meanwhile Dance would be going to town between his legs, unwilling to let Red escape, staining his teeth a pastel pink on Red's magic, bobbing his head rhythmically, his hands kneading reassuringly at Red's femurs. He might wring orgasm after mind-shattering orgasm out of Red, using him as his own personal slurpee machine. Or he might just keep Red on the razor's edge of euphoria, suckling his pre with deliberate enthusiasm, wearing away Red's resolve until he made the softest little whining noises, a wordless plea for mercy that Dance would usually not give, would usually say, 'use your words, kitten, what do ya want?' But Dance would be nice this time, be merciful, and bring him to completion with a throaty groan and a nibble that would have Red seeing stars. Red would pillow his head in his arms, praying nobody was looking or listening as he came, face glowing brilliant crimson, stained with pink tear tracks and drool, his eyelight shaped like an upside-down heart, throbbing that dull muddy brown that came about when his true nature wanted to shine through despite himself._

Lust's hand snaked down under the water, curling around his newly summoned shaft. He stroked himself, groaning softly as the images continued to play out in his head.

_Maybe someone had gotten too friendly with Red, and Dance dragged him away in a jealous huff? Maybe they snuck onto the roof, and Dance had Red on his back. Lust could picture Red's cocky (heh) grin, showing that he still thought he was the one in control, even as he put his hands behind his head and spread his legs on command, perfectly comfortable doing whatever Dance asked of him. he'd keep right on thinking that, right until Dance had him wreathing on his dick, clutching at his teeth with one hand as he fought to keep his powerful voice down, eyelight rolled into the back of his skull as he was overwhelmed by the intent to pleasure that Dance would be using in spades. Then it would be Dance's turn to smirk, piercing eyes gleaming as he took in the larger monster's shivering body, his dress shirt unbuttoned by now, showing off his sternum and the by-that-point glowing scars. Dance would lean in and murmur something possessive, something Red would only half hear at that point with his skull ringing and his own voice loud as he tried not to scream, but the intent would have him a blushing sputtering mess. Dance would be gentle with his hands, even as he thrust his hips with vicious precision, coaxing Red's pleasure ever higher with heavy petting. Dance was always a bit more gentle with Red, a soft glimmer of triumph and pride in his sockets whenever he was successful in getting Red to come first. They'd curl up under the open sky, clothes rumpled and unsalvageable, and likely doze for a few hours before thinking about coming home._

Lust stroked harder, gripping his own collar and tugging lightly, squeezing at the soft leather.

_Or maybe someone had outright flirted with Red? Maybe a few too many genuine compliments were thrown around, and Dance couldn't take it anymore. Maybe he grabbed Red and darted into the nearest bathroom, pinned him to the wall, and pistoned into him, their voices echoing hot and heavy off the tile. Red might snap and growl irritably at the rougher treatment, but he'd go quiet as Dance worshiped his body, dragging wave after wave of pleasure through him, leaving him a vulnerable puddle of a monster. Maybe someone came in and they had to stop, edging themselves. Maybe Dance couldn't help teasing poor Red even then, scratching at his scars or rubbing his sensitive crimson magic just enough to drive him insane, until the interruption left. Maybe Dance filled Red while jerking him off, dragging a vicious orgasm through their shared lover, spilling pretty scarlet magic all over the white bathroom tile. Maybe Red's legs couldn't hold him up, and he sank to the floor to pull himself back together. They would both be covered in sweat, chests heaving. Dance would have the most self satisfied smile as he stood over his unwitting submissive, magic buzzing happily after the reassurance that Red wasn't going anywhere. He might go back to the party with him after cleaning up, and occasionally fondle Red through his clothes whenever he caught someone else watching, content to let everyone know Red was his and not on the market._

Lust whined, coming in the bathwater, his SOUL pounding, unsatisfied. Damn his vivid imagination that just wasn't vivid enough.

He got out of the tub, draining the water before darting back into the bedroom, searching all over until he found what he was looking for: Dance's favorite blue hoodie and Red's jacket. Lust quickly threw them both on, shivering as the water soaked through the hoodie fabric and clung to his bones, only to sigh happily at the feel of the heavy leather jacket drape over him. He snatched up a toy out of his toybox, a large dildo he rarely ever used nowadays, and settled in bed.

Shoving the toy inside him, snugging in, surrounded by the lingering scent of his datemates, Lust began to masturbate in earnest. He just hoped that, whatever the two of them were doing, they had enough energy left to help him when they came back. He certainly wouldn't be able to satisfy himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have nothing queued up and i'm running out of time~~~ fuuuuuuck i was sick yesterday and tired today and didnt get jack shit written i'mma fall behind!!!!! TT__TT


	26. Day 25: Not Ticklish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Tickling; Boot Worship; Olfactophilia (Scent)
> 
> Pairing: SpicyCinnaroll (Undertale Papyrus x Underfell Papyrus)
> 
> Other Tags: Soul Fondling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~2.3k of another pairing i'm experimenting with. i kinda like it. but i wish i had more time to flesh it out more.  
> this is probably bad but i'm tired have it

Edge chased Rus out of the kitchen, a predatory gleam in his handsome red eyelights. "THAT IS IT!! NOW YOU ARE GOING TO GET IT!!" He declared, just as Rus knew he would after Rus had 'accidentally' confused the salt with the sugar while trying to 'help' him bake. And then 'accidentally' tripping over his own combat boots and sending the cookie dough flying to splatter all over him. There were still flecks of dough on Edge's maxilla and skull, though the apron he had been wearing (which had been ripped off and tossed to the kitchen floor for recover later) had caught most of it.

"THAT REQUIRES YOU TO CATCH ME FIRST!!" Rus quipped back, issuing as formal a challenge as one could over spilled cookie dough.

Edge was never one to back down from a challenge. He lunged forward, elegant and graceful in his stiletto heeled boots (a skill he paraded around like a badge of honor, a mastery of balance and aesthetic that Rus himself had yet to be able to achieve despite his best efforts), arms outstretched to catch and execute his prey. Rus ducked to one side, escaping with with victorious laugh as he vaulted the couch to get some distance. Edge, never one to disappoint, followed with ease, continuing the chase.

Rus bobbed and weaved back and forth around the livingroom, vowing that he would initiate a similar chase when they both actually had the space to maneuver. He was considering a picnic rendezvous, distracted by the idea, when Edge finally caught him, pinning him to the carpet underneath him.

"NYAH HAH HAH!!! VICTORY!!" Edge exclaimed, not even out of breath (neither was Rus, but that wasn't the point). "AND NOW I WILL TEACH YOU - AGAIN - WHAT HAPPENS WHEN PETS RUN FROM THEIR MASTERS!!" Edge then proceeded to slide his bare phalanges under Rus' shirt, skittering them against the side of Rus' ribs delicately, sending sharp jolts of tingling electricity through Rus' body. Rus couldn't hold in his laughter, and he found it difficult to squirm away from those hands, assaulted from every angle and unable to escape.

Above him, Rus could see that Edge was enjoying every second, every sound he could wring from Rus. Edge might never say it (he still had trouble speaking words of affection, seemingly finding it easier to show how he felt through action), but he loved hearing Rus laugh, and Rus knew it.

Maybe it was the way the feel of Edge's hands on him made his skull seem lighter; maybe it was that, despite being caught, he was still having fun and wanted to share it; maybe it was that he didn't want to admit defeat quite yet; regardless, Rus boldly slid his gloved hands underneath Edge's wifebeater, fully intending to return fire.

Instead of laughter, however, the noise that Rus' fingers drew out of Edge was so much sweeter.

Edge froze, his face turning a vivid scarlet, his hands suddenly clutching at Rus' ribs for support as the rest of him went rigid.

Rus chuckled, lower, the difference in the sound from before having an effect on Edge that Rus immediately liked. "YOU'RE NOT EXACTLY TICKLISH, ARE YOU?"

"OF COURSE NOT!!" Edge said defensively. "I AM IMMUNE FROM SUCH THINGS!! SO! THERE IS OBVIOUSLY NO POINT! WHATSOEVER!! FOR YOU TO TRY!!! OR HAVE YOUR HAND THERE!!!"

Rus repeated the scratching motion with his gloved fingers, watching with unreserved fascination as Edge's usually piercing eyelights, his steely gaze and stoic expression, softened and unfocused, dusting beautiful crimson light over his angular features as his body broke out into a thin layer of sweat. A fruity smell that Rus immediately loved permeated the air. The aborted noise Edge just barely cut off was _intoxicating_.

Actually, the whole show was intoxicating.

Rus was great at many things. Holding back from something he liked was not one of them.

Taking advantage of Edge's shattered composure, Rus gripped his shoulder with his other hand and pushed, knocking Edge to the floor and allowing Rus to switch their position. Edge let out an indignant yelp, snapping back into focus with all the speed Rus expected. Unfortunately for him, Rus was a brutal guy, and he wasn't above exploiting any weakness he could find.

Like this one, the one where just a few gentle scritches and a bit of rubbing turned Edge into bony jello under his hand; delicious, peach-lemon-flavored jello that Rus decided right then needed to be savored, effective immediately.

Edge's hands fell out from under Rus' shirt, landing to either side of him, palms up and level with where his skull rested on the carpet in an open, vulnerable position that sent a tantalizing shiver down Rus' spine. Edge tried to glare up at him, that spark of defiance still trying to stay alive despite clearly losing the proverbial war. "AND WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!" Edge growled, the sound making his ribcage tremble under Rus' hand.

"MY DATEMATE, OBVIOUSLY," Rus answered pleasantly, sliding his other hand under Edge's shirt and using both to stroke at his bones, attacking both sides at once with his gentle but insistent petting. "ALSO, LANGUAGE."

Edge made another enchanting noise, a throaty groan that had Rus' SOUL fluttering. He leaned forward, pressing his face into Edge's shoulder, breathing in the scent of him; of leather and something sour, of lingering dust and tears and sweat and something fruity. Rus adored it. He pressed his teeth to Edge's rugged jaw, humming happily as he heard Edge's breath hitch, felt the rhythm of his steady breathing stutter and fall apart under his touch.

"H-HAVING FUN, PET?" Edge tried to snark, the effect ruined by a stutter and the way his voice had pitched upward, right along with his arched back.

"HEAPS OF IT, MY PRECIOUS PARAMOUR," Rus admitted. "BUT I THINK YOU ARE HAVING IT ALSO! FUN, THAT IS! YOU'RE GLOWING WITH IT!"

Edge flushed an even more vivid crimson at the observation, stiffening beneath him. Rus tutted, pulling one hand down to massage at Edge's lumbar, even as the other continued to play with his ribs. "NO REASON TO BE EMBARRASSED!! YOU'RE RUGGEDLY HANDSOME!! AND MY FAVORITE COLOR!! THE MOST HANDSOME OF CRIMSONS!! EVEN YOUR AESTHETIC MEETS ALL MY STANDARDS!!"

Edge shivered, starting to pant like he had run a marathon (something Rus had never seen, even after Edge actually _had_ run a marathon). "IF Y-YOU HAVE TIME TO RUN YOUR F-FUCKING MOUTH, P-PUT IT TO BETTER U-USE!" There was no bite to the comment, sounding more like a plea than a command.

Rus knew it was because Edge just wasn't used to being given a genuine compliment.

"IF YOU INSIST!!" Rus agreed, pressing his teeth to Edge's in a skeleton kiss (which, oddly enough, did not require lips to achieve). Edge melted into it, letting out a deep rumbling purr as he relaxed further under Rus. Rus _loved_ it, just like he was sure he loved _him_. Watching Edge's sockets flutter shut, tasting his magic, his essence, feeling him relax and enjoy the praises and affection he absolutely deserved, it sent a rush through Rus like nothing else.

Rus had always thought he wanted to bathe in a shower of kisses every morning. Now? Now he considered that maybe he wanted to be the one giving those kisses just a little bit more.

And It. Was. _Bath Time._

Rus shoved Edge's shirt up over his clavicle, exposing his ribcage. The broad, powerful thing was littered with scars, nicks, and scratches, which were glowing, shimmering in bloody red hues. Rus nuzzled them, thumbing the brighter ones, watching in fascination as the brilliant glow curled around his gloved hand and Edge arched into the touch, desperate for more (even if he'd never admit it, even if Edge would never dare ask for attention for himself, more concerned that _Rus_ felt validated and _Rus_ was praised and _Rus_ felt good).

Rus kissed and nipped his way over every manufactured feature of Edge's body, mapping them out and committing them to memory, classifying them by sensitivity (and oh, how they were sensitive -- Rus was going to know every weak spot and exploit it mercilessly). He worked lower and lower until he had to shift back, setting between Edge's legs, which had been splayed open (inviting, waiting). Edge's sockets had drifted shut, and a soft, low vibration had started quivering in his ribs. His skull had drifted to one side, his jaw hanging open, his panting visible as soft puffs of steam coming from between his teeth in little bursts.

Rus lifted one of those lithe, powerful legs up, hooking it over his shoulder effortlessly thanks to Edge's agility. He nuzzled at Edge's medial epicondyle, stroking his femoral shaft through his jeans. He could feel the tension bleed out of his datemate. He pulled his hand off of Edge's ribs to focus more on his leg. Rus watched Edge's face carefully as he kissed and stroked at his femur, moving down to his patella, his hand cupping carefully at the posterior of his foreleg, covered almost entirely by his lace up boots. Edge blinked up at him, clearly disoriented but still purring soft like an old VHS machine.

Rus smirked down at his datemate, keeping eye contact as he continued to shower Edge in kisses, working inch by glorious inch down his leg, until he was cradling Edge's heel with one hand, nipping at the tip of his pointed toe. His worshipful attention had Edge squirming, off balance but perfectly comfortable despite it, almost like he would have fallen asleep if his magic wasn't keeping him awake and aware like a few hundred shots of caffeine. _It was a good look for him._

"NOW, MY DELECTABLE DATEMATE, WOULD YOU MIND IF WE STARTED THE REAL THING?? CAN I SEE YOUR SOUL??" Rus asked, careful to phrase it as a question, something Edge could refuse if he really wanted to. Rus nuzzled at Edge's ankle as he waited, perfectly content with the view he had right now, if he got nothing else.

Edge thought for a moment, showing signs of conflict about the idea. Rus ached to put that conflict to rest, to reassure and bolster Edge's confidence in himself (confidence he usually had in spades, confidence Rus couldn't for the life of him understand how it could disappear so suddenly, over something so simple). Eventually Edge took a deep, stuttered breath.

And there it was.

Edge's SOUL was a dark, calloused thing, like black diamond had grown and calcified overtop of a fragile white lily, shining in the dim blood-red light his magic emitted. Rus could still see patches, veins, unprotected areas on the tender organ where the purest snowy white still shown through, spiral patters like engravings where Edge's true essence still could not hide.

"WOWWIE..!" It was the most amazing thing Rus had ever seen. He reached for it without thinking, overcome with a violent need to lavish this precious gem with love and affection, to cherish it. As Rus gripped it in both hands, he felt Edge's leg (still hooked over his shoulder) jolt and twitch, much like the rest of him did. Rus could feel it: _self doubt, self disgust, resignation, surprise, relief, hope, hope, hope, hope, hope, so much hope and love_. The sweet and sour scent wafting from it had Rus reeling.

Carefully, Rus cradled the SOUL against his cheek, nuzzling, kissing at it. It pulsed back at him, filled to overflowing with _love, trust, hope, and pleasure_. It wasn't long before coloration shifted, starting to shine instead in a deep azure, the most vivid blue. Rus looked down, concerned at first about Edge's well being, only for his breath to catch.

Edge's scars now shimmered in reds and oranges and blues, like sunset reflected on the purest, richest water. Soft, almost inaudible whines and cries escaped him, the quiet that took over him oddly erotic when compared to his usually loud, commanding, boisterous voice. His usual resting bitch face was slack and blissed out, a physical manifestation of the _happiness, pleasure, comfort, and trust_ that Rus could feel bleeding from the tender treasure Edge had allowed him to borrow.

Rus returned his attention to the SOUL in his hands. He rubbed at it, tracing the etherial white lines of Edge's innermost core, whimpering at how good it felt to feel and be felt by the monster he admired so much. The organ began to ooze a cerulean tinted slime, seeping into Rus' gloves and dripping to the floor between their legs. For once, Rus paid such things no heed (he could clean it later). He spread the slime around, humming at how responsive and receptive the extra lubrication made Edge's existence to his touch. He could feel it pulsing, faster, faster, harder, almost in time with the way Edge's body twitched and squirmed and convulsed under him. He could feel it, feel the _love, hope, joy, trust, gratitude, embarrassment,_ everything that Edge was. And Rus loved it.

He _loved_ him.

There was a blinding flash of light, a blinding sense of _pleasure_ , and then the SOUL exploded in blue slime, splattering both of them, tasting of sour sweetness. Rus felt his own SOUL swell with pride as he looked down at Edge, coated in those colors, limp and exhausted and satisfied at a fundamental level. He nuzzled at the culmination of his lover's very being, reluctant to return it, reluctant to end this moment that seemed so perfect.

Surely, surely Edge wouldn't begrudge him just... one more round?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hint: it wasn't just one more round.
> 
> Edge and Red are a lot alike in more ways than one -- even if the underlying reason for it is different. ~~sensitive subby sub edgelords that still think they are in control huehuehue~~
> 
> I've never had them myself, but theres apparently this blue fruit called a Quandong that tastes sour. I imagine its like a peach-lemon thing but its blue and honestly a sour peach sounds like edge. if anyone has ever had one lemme know what you think.


	27. Day 26: Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Roleplay; Smiles/Laughter
> 
> Pairing: Classicberry (Undertale Sans x Underswap Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: Medical Play (kinda)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.5k of a ship i haven't touched in over a year (i might be rusty)

Comic laid back on the bed, putting his hands behind his head and getting comfortable. The plastic sheeting spread under him (perfect for catching slime and other messy byproducts of a fun evening) crinkled with every move he made, drawing an amused chuckle from him.

"AND WHAT, PRAY TELL, IS SO FUNNY?" Blue asked, grinning himself.

"nothin'," Comic hummed, looking his datemate up and down with a less than innocent appraisal. Blue was a nurse, and he rocked his nurses scrubs like nobody else, but damn if he didn't look good in that cliche doctors labcoat too. "though theres plenty to find _humerus_."

Blue made an exaggerated sound of disgust, which just made Comic laugh harder. Blue crept closer to the bed, reaching out to cup Comic's jaw. "WELL IF THAT ISN'T A SIGN OF AN OVERACTIVE FUNNY BONE, I DO NOT KNOW WHAT IS. WE'LL HAVE TO DO A FULL BODY EXAMINATION!"

Comic nuzzled into Blue's hand, feeling the hum of his magic, prickling with excitement at their bit of extra play. "you know best, dr fontaine."

Blue blushed lightly, and Comic couldn't help but enjoy the sight, watching his eyelights twinkle like stars and his megawatt smile grow that much brighter. Blue's hand rubbed soothingly at his jaw, gentle and sweet (just like him). "THEN BE A GOOD LITTLE PATIENT AND UNDRESS."

Comic flushed, but he slowly brought his hands down to comply. It wasn't like he hadn't already told Blue about his scar. He had. He just hadn't shown it to him yet. As he slowly pealed away each layer of his clothing, starting with his coat, he couldn't help noticing how Blue's gaze never faltered, never left him. Comic had already shown Blue his SOUL, given the very culmination of his being, but this was a different kind of reveal. He was almost embarrassed.

Blue took Comic's clothes piece by piece, never looking away from him, folding the garments mechanically and setting them aside on a nearby chair without breaking eye contact. Comic automatically went to cover the scar with his arm, clutching at the bone, trying to hide it (like Blue hadn't already seen through him on a fundamental level).

Blue gripped Comic's wrist, gently pulling it away so he could see the scar better. "HANDS DOWN, PLEASE," he murmured, thumbing gently at Comic's metacarpals, a soothing gesture that had Comic relaxing back against the plastic covered pillows, all of his self-consciousness draining away. _He loved Blue. He trusted Blue. And Blue loved him back. Unconditional._

When Blue carefully lowered Comic's arm down to his side, Comic didn't feel the need to put it back.

Then Blue's hands were on him, stroking, petting, scratching and prodding lightly at the smooth plains of Comic's ivory body. Comic groaned appreciatively at the welcome attention, every touch reinforcing his decision to trust his ~~datemate~~ doctor. He was in warm, experienced, caring hands. He had nothing to be nervous about. He'd be taken care of.

Blue made a point of making noncommittal, but intrigued noises, humming with varying intonations as he 'inspected' every inch of Comic. Comic gasped as he felt Blue prod at the underside of his sternum, strumming at the many delicate strands of magic coating that inner surface, that unused joint. The sensation had his back arching, clutching at the plastic below him, desperate for grounding as the sudden intense stimulation knocked the wind out of him.

"RESPONSIVE," Blue purred, his eyelights flickering to hearts as he kept at it, bringing Comic achingly close to what would have been a genuinely satisfying orgasm before pulling his hand away to keep exploring.

Comic whined softly, the pressure of pleasure that had been built up from Blue's touch, his intent, spreading from the initial point of contact and energizing his whole body, leaving him sensitive and wanting. He reached up to grip weakly at Blue's sleeve, looking up at him with what he hoped was a pathetic enough expression that Blue would take pity on him.

Blue chuckled, smiling fondly, before cupping Comic's face in both hands and pressing into a loving kiss. Comic could taste Blue's essence, groaning softly into his teeth. He curled his arms around Blue's neck, clinging for support and reassurance that Blue was more than happy to give.

"NOW, COMIC," Blue chided sweetly as he pulled away. "YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO GET YOUR TREAT UNTIL AFTER THE EXAM IS OVER. CAN YOU BE _PATIENT_ FOR ME?"

Comic blinked, then started laughing, hiding his face in Blue's shoulder. "oh, geeze, that was great..!"

"IT WAS AWFUL," Blue deadpanned. "BUT LAUGHTER IS THE BEST MEDICINE, AND BAD JOKES MAKE YOU LAUGH. SO. OBVIOUSLY THAT MEANS I MUST MAKE BAD JOKES."

"you're a natural," Comic praised. "absolutely _pun_ derful."

"NONE OF THAT FROM YOU, MISTER," Blue chastised through a grin of his own, pulling out of Comic's grip (which Comic whined about shamelessly) and waggling his finger at him. "NOW BEHAVE!! AND DON'T TRY THE PUPPY EYES! IT IS VERY DISTRACTING!"

Comic chuckled, settling back down. He honestly couldn't help it. He understood that Blue wanted to spice up their love life, but Comic really only had eyes for his magnificent datemate. "yes, dr fontaine," he intoned, trying to sound chastened (even though he felt absolutely no remorse whatsoever).

Blue must have at least appreciated the effort (such as it was), because his eyelights blew out into pulsing hearts. He pressed his teeth to Comic's frontal bone (a gesture that Comic very much appreciated) before returning to his examination. Blue worked his hands over every inch of Comic, teasing at every joint, stroking at every surface, even tickling at his metatarsals and reducing Comic to breathless hysterics. It was only after a long, thorough investigation that Blue came back up to Comic's ribcage, finally alighting his hand over Comic's scar.

Comic was very glad he didn't need to breath, because he forgot how. That scar had always been a source of pain, but under Blue’s gentle, loving touch, all he felt was a blisteringly intense pleasure. His vision whited out for a moment, and if he hadn't already been laying down he was sure he'd have fallen over. A long, deep, tremulous noise pierced the air, and it took a moment for Comic to realize it had come from his own mouth.

When Comic finally blinked the spots from his vision, he saw Blue's face was glowing bright as a neon sign, the hearts in his eyelights pulsing with such intensity, hazed and hyper-focused on him in every conceivable way. An almost feral possessiveness echoed in the back of those eyelights: that was the look of a monster who had everything they ever wanted at their fingertips, and was loving every second of it. Comic shivered under that gaze, under those hands, that so genuinely loved him, adored him, wanted him, unmistakably.

"THIS WON'T DO," Blue declared. "YOU'RE CRITICALLY UNDERAPPRECIATED. I'M PRESCRIBING YOU 10 UNITS OF OXYTOCIN. STAT."

"heh. if you think its best, doctor," Comic rasped out, his voice suddenly difficult to use.

Blue straddled Comic's lumbar, bracing himself on the headboard until he had his balance back, then lunging into a passionate series of kisses, stealing what little cognitive function Comic still had, all while scratching at his scar like he wanted to replace it with his own mark. Comic's voice stuttered, sometimes going overly loud, sometimes breaking off altogether. He didn't honestly care. His entire world right then was Blue, on those hands and their intent to make him feel _loved_.

It wasn't long before both of their SOULs had manifested. Blue didn't even have to pull out of their latest kiss. He just had to hold out his hand. Comic's SOUL came zooming into it, nuzzling and fluttering excitedly like a well-trained dog called by its master. And Comic's world narrowed to the feeling of that hand on the culmination of his entire being, loving it, caring for it, wanting it to feel good, wanting _him_ , pleased and happy to have _him_.

Comic's whole body flashed with heat, with energy, his entire being swelling and then overflowing with joy and pleasure until it literally exploded in silver SOUL fluid, splattering the both of them in slime. Comic went limp, exhausted and wrung out from the intensity of it, whining softly because he wanted Blue closer, _closer, why wasn't he so much closer??_

Then Blue was, snuggling into the crook of Comic's arm, draped over him, panting himself. Comic threw his tired arms around his lover, cuddling him closer, clinging to him, needing to feel him there so he knew the last few minutes (weeks, months) hadn't been some elaborate fever dream.

Blue hugged back, cradling Comic in his strong, reliable arms, wrapping him in his scent and his warmth. Comic closed his sockets, nuzzling, knowing that if he fell asleep now, there would be no nightmares. There would only be smiles, and laughter, and the unfathomable depth of Blue's love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue takes relationships very seriously and did a bunch of research about keeping things interesting in the bedroom, but tbh they are both completely lovey dovey sappy dorks who are so into each other they dont really need it (they can barely keep their hands off each other gdi lok at them they just wanna kiss and cuddle and rub each others souls until they are both puddles of bones and slime)
> 
> but blue never wants to clean soul fluid out of his couch again so now the tarp goes down before every love session no exceptions
> 
> they don't usually do the dom/sub top/bottom thing (who needs kinky when they have all those sappy feels) but when they do blue is always the top/dom
> 
> also just don't think about the fic this relationship spawned from ok dont think about it. dont think about it. do not. think. about it.


	28. Day 27: Bass Drop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism; Degradation; Against a wall
> 
> Pairing: Burlesque (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans x Dancetale Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: BDSM, Impact Play, Dom Drop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~2.1k of a kinky evening that doesnt go quite the way they plan
> 
> (because somebody had to ask about dom drop)

Lust felt the wind knocked out of him as he was slammed into the wall of Grillby's bar. Not even a second later, a loud, definitive sound of impact rang out from just by his head, the sound of bone making contact with stone. Lust clawed at the brick behind him, SOUL fluttering excitedly as he looked up at Dance, looming over him as he braced himself one handed on the wall, his other hand coming up to grip at Lust's collar.

"what did you just say? i, heh, i don't think i heard ya right," Dance said, voice tight with barely repressed emotions. His piercing, cold eyelights shimmered viciously with jealousy, the slightest tinge of blue on his face.

_Just how Lust wanted him._

"i said, maybe i'd take him up on that offer," Lust repeated himself, purposefully glancing at his ex lover over Dance's shoulder, where he was still standing behind the bartop. Grillby watched with equal parts annoyance and amusement, liking the show but disliking the obvious conclusion that excluded him from participation. A part of Lust felt bad, using his old _flame_ like that, teasing him when they all knew nothing would come of it. A more vindictive, confident part of himself (a part that spoke in Red's voice some days and Dance's on others) thought it served him right.

Red was still sitting at the bar, mustard bottle still between his teeth as he watched, clearly approving of the turn of events.

Dance growled low, as deep and possessive as anything Lust had ever heard out of Red (a trick Lust could only attribute to Dance's unbelievable vocal range). "so you wanna play it like that? ok. thats fine. i'm a flexible guy," Dance said as he loomed over Lust, pressing his knee between Lust's legs. Lust spread them at the silent command, tension bleeding from him as he ground his aching, trapped groin into Dance's patella. Dance tugged a bit harder on the collar, sparking Red's magic around his fingers and Lust's neck deliciously. "ya wanna act like a whore? i'll treat ya like one."

Lust shook at the venom in the words, sockets drifting shut as he submit to Dance's will.

Dance let go of the collar, his hand snaking down to first grip at Lust's exposed lumbar vertebrae, pumping it aggressively, wringing a noise out of Lust that was a cross between a yelp and a moan. Lust felt the heat build up in his marrow, making him squirm, sweaty and panting. Lust brought his own hands up, clutching at Dance's hoodie, whimpering at the teasing, punishing touch that was driving him mad.

"d-dance, please..!" Lust mewled, grinding harder into his mate's leg, uncaring that his vision was losing focus and he was being loud enough for others to hear.

Dance squeezed at Lust's spine, then quickly slid his hand into Lust's pubic inlet, grinding his knuckles into the anterior of Lust's sacrum, toying with the foramen. "needy slut. you want it so bad you don't care where you get it, huh? just as long as you get it." He hissed out, low. "if you wanna show off for everyone so bad, fine. lets show the whole club what a filthy slut you are."

Dance pulled back, and Lust almost lost his footing.

"strip." Dance ordered, his voice commanding and even, sending that spark of fire through Lust's SOUL. Lust looked up, seeing that they were the latest spectacle of the night. There was always one at any given time when Grillby had these sex parties, the scene that had the majority's undivided attention. Lust could see a few of the dogs panting, watching with rapt attention, a few humans gapping in surprise to see Lust (of all people) submitting to the usually amiable, soft spoken Dance. Even Grillby was surprised at the turn of events (in fact the only one not thrown off was Red, who just kept enjoying his mustard).

Lust stood up shakily, then started shucking off his scant clothes, suddenly even more aware of the eyes on him. He couldn't deny it sent a thrill though him (this was why they were there, this was why Dance and Red were doing this for him, to give him this rush, because they knew it would make him happy). Dance kept his face neutral, his arms crossed as he watched, but Lust could see he was getting into it, that secret, sadistic, possessive side of him coming alive at the idea of letting everyone know once and for all who was in control.

When Lust finally had the last shred of clothing off (save for his collar, which he had no intention of ever taking off again), Dance stepped forward, snapping his finger and pointing at the wall. "brace your self, legs spread, that shameless little coccyx out to me."

Lust took the position, his palms flat against the wall, spreading his legs apart. He was already shaking, his magic singing in his marrow, burning in the false flesh already pulsing and throbbing in his pelvis, dripping lilac magic to the floor between his legs. The thrill of it, of what was happening, was almost making Lust dizzy.

"red," Dance said, quieter, lacking the harsher commanding bite that he knew Lust liked (but Red did not), "pick something out."

Lust dared to peak over his shoulder. He could see the confusion on Red's face, before he looked down at the dimension box they had brought with them in preparation for tonight. Red kicked it open with one foot, scanning the inventory before his eyelight lit up. He pulled out a cat-o-nine-tails, tossing it to Dance without a word. Dance caught it, shifting his grip and giving it a few test swings. The sound of impact, the crack in the air, sent another shiver through Lust.

Dance then turned back to him, twisting the leather absently in his hands. "lets start by showing them what a filthy pain slut you are," he murmured, judgmental finality ringing in every syllable, making Lust's knees weak. Lust whimpered in response, feeling excess magic pool in his mouth and leak from between his teeth.

Dance brought the flogger down on Lust's back, shocking him with the sweetest pain. Lust cried out with it, his head turning back, ducking between his outstretched arms as he fought to keep his footing. He was struck, again, and again, and again, each lance of pain building up his pleasure, his need, that coiling tightness in his SOUL and the electric static in his magic, ever higher.

"look at the slimy mess you're making all over the floor," Dance growled low, rubbing the smooth leather against Lust's coccyx roughly (deliciously, amazingly). "you're getting off to a public flogging. what do you have to say for yourself?"

Lust took a shaky, shuddered breath. "i'm sorry," he breathed.

"damn right you're sorry," Dance said, slipping the cat o' nine tails between Lust's legs, grinding it into the base of his shaft. "and you know better. maybe as punishment i out to actually let that bartender have his fun with you. huh? or maybe some of the other slobbering freaks in here. hows that sound?"

Lust shivered, a bit of genuine panic flooding his system despite knowing (trusting) it was an empty threat. "no! no, please, not that!"

"and why not?" Dance asked, gripping Lust's collar again. "say it."

"only you and red," Lust panted. "only you can-!"

"can what?" Dance asked, ripping the flogger back and bringing it down on one of Lust's legs.

"only you can make me feel good," Lust gasped out, shaking harder.

Dance turned Lust's head, pressing their teeth together into a rough, demanding, possessive kiss that Lust wished he was in a position to melt into. As it was, he was a sweaty, panting mess, keening piteously, begging for more. Dance pulled away, and with a few rougher, more intent fueled strikes, had Lust coming from the flogging alone.

Then Dance was on him for real, discarding the whip and slamming Lust's back again into the wall, pulling his own erection free and with a single smooth motion hilting into Lust's quivering entrance. Lust shouted with the joy of it, almost coming again even as he was still surfing the aftershocks of his first release. Lust had to cling to Dance for dear life as his mate proceeded to pound into him with reckless abandon, swift and precise and possessive. "mine," he whispered, low and nearly feral. "ours, not theirs, never again theirs. they had their chance but now you're mine, and i _never_ want their filthy paws on ya."

Lust couldn't see beyond the stars in his vision. "d-dance, daddy! fuck, master, yes!" He babbled, uncertain what he was saying but hoping the intent came through. He clung tighter, hiding his face in Dance's shoulder, in his smell, in his scent, in ocean winds and rushing water, drowning in him, unable to breath. His back and femurs ached but he didn't care. How could he care about such unimportant things when his magic was singing in harmony with one of the monsters he loved above all else?

And everyone got to see how good Dance was to him, for him. Now everyone would know how lucky Lust was. Let _them_ be jealous. This was his, his and only his (and Red's).

Let them all know how happy he was.

Let them all know how much he loved them.

* * *

When the world finally came back into focus, Lust was shivering against Dance's side on one of the couches, the both of them covered in a thick fluffy blanket that smelled faintly like moth balls. Lust snuggled into Dance, purring softly, preferring his scent.

Only Dance was shaking.

Lust looked up. Dance's expression was neutral, impassive, but he was shaking. Lust looked around for Red, seeing him at the bar, getting what looked like a few glasses of water. When Red turned back around, he must have seen exactly what Lust was seeing, because his expression flashed with confusion and panic, and he put the drinks down in favor of rushing over to them both.

Lust tried standing up, but his legs still ached from before, and he was still disoriented. Also, he was apparently still naked.

Red snatched the dimension box, slinging it over his shoulder, before pulling them both into a tight hold and shortcutting them away.

As soon as they were safe in the livingroom, Dance lost what little of his composure he had left, tears sliding down his face. Lust clung to him tighter, cooing softly. Dance clung right back, shaking harder as he sobbed into Lust's shoulder.

Red darted off, only stars knows where, leaving the two of them alone on the couch.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry," Dance babbled, muffled and distorted through his tears.

Lust rubbed his back, his skull, kissing his jaw and shoulder. "it's okay, baby... you made me very happy, i promise... you did so good... you're so good to me..." he murmured, soft and gentle and filled with as much reassurance as he could muster.

"i didn't mean- i know wha- what i said- i didn't mean- i didn't- i- i didn't-" Dance's tried to explain between hiccups, miserable wet noises that made Lust's SOUL twist in sympathy.

"i know you didn't baby... i know..." Lust hummed, trying to stay calm. He had to stay calm if he was going to get Dance to calm down. "we talked about it remember? you didn't do anything we didn't already talk about. you did everything right."

Red came back with Dance's cd player and one of those chubby scented candles, setting them both on the table. He flipped the music on first, soft music Lust recognized as something Dance listened to while he worked. Then Red lit the candle, filling the air with a familiar watermelon and cucumber smell. Red was sweating, devolving into a small panic of his own as he scrambled for anything and everything he could think of to make Dance feel better.

Lust beckoned him over, indicating he should sit beside them. Red did. It wasn't long before Dance had the presence of mind to realize it, and climbed into the safety of Red's lap, still shaking as he dragged Lust with him, sandwiching himself between the two of them, still mumbling apologies, begging for forgiveness. Red wrapped him in his arms, holding him tight, close, resting one hand on Lust's shoulder reassuringly.

Dance sniffled pathetically, vulnerable as he wallowed in his own self-loathing. Lust continued to counter every claim, reminding him again and again that he had done everything right. Red quickly caught on to the idea, joining in with rumbling murmurs of, 'ya did good, kitten, don't even think ya didn't, we love ya.'

Dance eventually cried himself to sleep, snuggled as tightly as he could be in Red's arms, hugging Lust close like a child might a stuffed animal. They stayed like that all night, and both Red and Lust silently agreed that the next day would be Couch Time™.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sometimes UL!Grillby has those kinda bdsm sex parties hosted at his bar. lust used to go there all the time for them. its not really red or dance's thing (or at least dance didn't think it was, but turns out he really is a performer at heart pfft) but they're willing to take him just to see, to try it out.
> 
> they talk about whats ok and what isn't, what lust wants out of it, what dance and red are willing to do. none of them know exactly how the evening will play out but they prepare for the things they're good with
> 
> lust specifically asks for some degradation this time (he gets so much praise from both of them, but sometimes he wants a little bit of the other end of things) and both of them are fine with it as long as its what lust wants
> 
> dance maybe gets too into it. as the adrenaline wears off and they come down from the high dance realizes "oh my god i got off on calling the love of my life a whore" and judgmental dance suddenly starts breaking down a little bit hating himself
> 
> red's in aftercare mode already (thats why he's there, he's mr safety), but he turns his back for a sec so he doesn't catch the shift as fast. there might be panic. he might be panicking because 'no no no fuck fuck fuck why is dance freaking out' (he doesnt know about top drop)
> 
> lust knows all about it and he's kicking himself for not going into more detail about it
> 
> so dance freaks out and lust and red scramble to make him feel better and they don't stop for like a week until dance puts his foot down and declares himself okay


	29. Day 28: Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Stripping/Striptease
> 
> Pairing: Dancetale Papyrus x Swapfell Sans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~1.4k of experimentation with a new ship i'm uncertain of
> 
> not sure if i like it or not yet. i might need to tweak it a bit

Suave slipped into the house with his spare key, shaking his head at the unnecessary opulence. Razz honestly didn't need a whole two-story suburban home, not when Suave's studio apartment was more than big enough for two. He would admit, though, that Razz had excellent taste and kept his home immaculate.

Suave wasnt dissuaded by the sight of the empty livingroom. He slipped inside, heading up to the second floor where he knew Razz's bedroom was. Sure enough, there the shorter monster was, sitting at his desk, typing away at his computer, a daunting amount of papers arranged neatly to one side, which he occasionally referenced as he worked.

Suave knew that Razz was fully aware of his presence. He approached quietly none the less, curling his arms around the other with a warm fondness. "PLEASE TELL ME THIS ISN'T THE SAME CASE AS LAST WEEK?"

"OF COURSE IT IS!!" Razz answered without looking up, although Suave could feel his sense of _relief_ at his touch, of _contentment_ , underneath a thick layer of _stress_. "THE PROSECUTION THINKS I'M JUST GOING TO BEND OVER AND TAKE IT AS THEY BRING IN PILE AFTER RIDICULOUS PILE OF CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. I THINK NOT!! I WILL COMB THROUGH EVERY LAST PUNCTUATION MARK!! I WILL REFUTE EVERY ALLEGATION!! I WILL-"

"BURN YOURSELF OUT BEFORE THE HEARING EVEN STARTS," Suave finished, cutting him off. "THIS IS THE THIRD TIME YOU HAVE GONE OVER THESE. THE THIRD TIME. AND THIS IS ONE OF THE FEW CIRCUMSTANCES WHERE PRACTICE DOES NOT MAKE PERFECT."

"I AM ALREADY PERFECT," Razz grumbled. "IT IS NOT ABOUT PERFECTION, ITS ABOUT ASSIDUITY."

"AND YOU’RE ALREADY ASSIDUOUS. EMPHASIS ON THE 'ASS'," Suave couldn't help but add.

"YOUR WIT ASTOUNDS ME. THIS IS MY ASTOUNDED FACE," Razz deadpanned, still not looking away from his work.

"NOW," Suave insisted, ignoring his datemate's sass as he scooped him up effortlessly into his arms, spinning gracefully to get between Razz and the legal papers. "LETS PUT THE EMPHASIS ON 'US'!"

Razz bristled. "PUT ME DOWN!!"

Suave set him down on his bed, pinning his datemate under him. "I THINK A FEW RELAXATION EXERCISES ARE IN ORDER!! YOU HAVE TO BE IN TIP TOP SHAPE TO PERFORM, AND STIFF SHOULDERS DOES NOT LEAVE ROOM FOR FLEXIBILITY!!"

Razz glared up at him. "I AM FINE!! I HAVE WORKED THROUGH WORSE THAN STIFF-" He cut off as Suave pushed into a kiss (lipless as it was). Suave hummed as he felt some of that _stress_ begin to melt away, eroded by waves of _happiness_. When Suave pulled back, he could see his datemate's expressed had softened, the tension bled from his bones. "I THINK THIS IS JUST AN EXCUSE FOR YOU TO BE NEEDY, PET," Razz grumbled, face flushed.

Suave chuckled, unbuttoning the top-most button of his dress shirt. "AND I THINK YOU NEED REMINDED THAT I KNOW BEST."

"AND HOW CAN I BE REMINDED OF SOMETHING NOT YET PROVEN FACT?" Razz snarked, his adorable little claws bracing on his own hips as he looked up at Suave, chest puffed out, gaze _defiant_ even as his maxilla shimmered a pleasant violet hue. _Pride_ mixed with _playfulness_ in his eyelights, his piercing, powerful gaze taking in everything Suave had to offer (and, of course, _liking it_ ).

"LIKE THIS, I SUPPOSE," Suave quipped back, unbuttoning the next button of his shirt, then the next, going slowly down the line, smirking as he saw Razz's gaze follow his hand. Swaying sensually to the beat of the song now flitting through the air, Suave opened his shirt, slowly, slowly, revealing his own gleaming ivory ribs inch by inch.

Razz immediately reached for him, intent to hook those talented little claws into his intercostal spaces, but Suave pushed him back, wiggling a finger in silent chastisement at his lack of patience. Razz pouted, but Suave could feel the _amusement_ building in him, wearing away more of his _stress_. If Suave liked entertaining, then Razz liked being entertained.

Suave resumed his little strip tease, pealing back his shirt, first from one shoulder, than the other, before finally pulling it off entirely, tossing it behind him to land perfectly on the hook on the back of Razz' door. Razz clapped his hands thrice, quietly, in mock _praise_ at the feat, but Suave could feel he meant it genuinely despite his _sass_.

Next, Suave began to toy with his crimson sash, loosening it bit by bit from the tight weave around his narrow hips, holding his sleek dress pants up. Razz's gaze was drawn to his waist, and a subtle shift in his balance made it so his datemate got just the briefest teasing view of the anterior of his sacrum, before Suave shifted again. Razz's _arousal_ was palpable, sending a shiver up and down Suave's spine. He loved performing, and he loved captivating his audience. He also knew Razz was a discerning, picky individual who would only ever pay this much attention if he was genuinely _enchanted._

Suave loved being the one to enchant him.

Soon his pants were off as well, and Suave was bare before his mate, save for the sparkling silver-studded ribbon choker that was tied around his neck.

"ABOUT TIME," Razz rumbled, _pleased_ at the sight before him. He gripped onto Suave's hips, running his claws lightly over the unmarred ivory, _admiration_ evident in every motion.

"YES, I AM AN UNPARALLELED VISION OF THE HIGHEST AESTHETIC!" Suave agreed. "IT IS ONLY FITTING THAT SOMEONE AS DISCERNING AS YOURSELF APPRECIATE MY GREATNESS!!" Suave gave himself a moment to preen, loving the feel of Razz's _appreciative_ hands. "HOWEVER, I TOO HAVE NEED OF SOMETHING PRICELESS AND UNPARALLELED. SO NOW IT IS MY TURN TO BE STRUCK SPEECHLESS BY BEAUTY!"

That was the only warning Suave gave his datemate before he reached down and started to unbutton Razz's dress shirt, chuckling at the _confusion_ and _embarrassment_ at the roundabout but ultimately genuine compliment. As Suave unwrapped his own proverbial gift, it was not snowy white that he revealed, but dusty silver-grey bones, chipped and scratched from years of wear and tear the like of which Suave had never known. Suave, however, would only be tricked once into thinking they were not beautiful. He knew better now.

With just a few strokes and a murmured, "SHINE FOR ME," Suave had Razz glimmering like a natural wonder, silver and amethyst and glorious in ways Suave could never express in words alone. Razz clutched at the sheets under him, panting and sweaty, squirming in a freestyle dance of _pleasure_ and _embarrassment_ that Suave would never get tired of leading him through.

Best of all, the stress had completely disappeared, leaving Razz a decorative vessel for Suave to fill with _happiness_ and _pleasure_ and _contentment_ and _love_ all he wanted.

And Suave _wanted_.

Another kiss, as Suave lowered himself to lay at Razz's side, stroking his shapely jaw. Another one still, as Suave distracted him, keeping his keen intellectual mind occupied with a literal tongue twister as he rubbed at Razz's sternum, coaxing, pleading. Razz hummed, purring softly, sweetly, a lovely melody all its own, clinging to Suave's ribs with one hand and his skull with the other.

"GOOD PET," Razz murmured, his claws working carefully (always carefully, tenderly, never rough, never asking for anything in return. They easily found Suave's more sensitive spots, drawing gasps and whines from him, making Suave sing. Razz snickered, reaching into Suave's ribcage and scratching teasingly at the underside of his sternum, toying with the unused joints, strumming the magic there holding him together, in time with the beat of Suave's own SOUL song. Razz's other hand clutched at the back of Suave's skull, near the base where his cervical started. Smirking unreasonably smugly at him, Razz pulled Suave closer. "I THINK SUCH ADEQUATE PERFORMANCES ARE DESERVING OF A REWARD."

Suave shivered, nuzzling into Razz's neck and pressing his teeth to his fragile vertebrae. He almost said it, he almost said, 'This is reward enough,' but he stopped himself. He didn't want Razz to get any ideas about 'enough' being 'enough' with him. Suave was worth going the extra mile.

So he didn't say the words.

Instead, he summoned Razz' SOUL, that sculpture of pearl and black quartz, and lavished it with relentless attention, leaving Razz a trembling mess of bone and slime, of _pleasure_ and _contentment_ and _embarrassment_ and _love_.

Only then was Suave certain that he himself had done enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i get the feeling these two would constantly be trying to one-up each other, like two gay robots fighting to be the most fabulous datemate, only they are both workaholics and neat freaks and one is an empath who 'has fun for a living' while the other is a notorious badass who legend has it hatched from a 'fun-hater egg'


	30. Day 29: Doze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Sleepy Sex; Massage
> 
> Pairing: Burlesque (Underfell Sans x Underlust Sans x Dancetale Sans)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~1.8 of boring sleepy sex because dance needed to wind the fuck down
> 
> this one probably wasn't very good tbh. I'm honestly running out of steamr. kinda BS'ed this so hard. pfffffffft

When Dance had asked for a massage, this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind... but he wasn't complaining. He nuzzled into Lust's lap, half asleep and comfortable, lulled into a near trance by the sweet intonation of Lust's voice as he instructed Red on what to do.

Red was the one actually performing the massage, looming over Dance, his hands working slowly, carefully, occasionally pausing to adjust to Lust's expert correction. He was a natural, and with his claws as sharp as they were, he could also do some acupuncture-like tricks that had Dance's whole body feeling like happy, happy jello.

Lust stroked at Dance's skull, his tangy, comfortable scent ensnaring Dance's senses, his soft purring and low, sultry voice keeping him relaxed and unguarded. Dance didn't know how, but he managed to make his lap softer than any pillow and twice as warm and inviting. That in and of itself would have been enough to encourage Dance to drift right off.

But then there were Red's hands.

Red had started with Dance's scapulae, kneading at them with his knuckles, working tension from the currents of magic that held Dance together, until Red could rub and smooth out the bone and send soothing sparks through Dance's whole body. Then he moved on to Dance's ribs, working each one individually until it too was settled and relaxed. Dance didn't feel like moving after all of that.

At Lust's instruction, Red started again at Dance's neck, scratching lightly, those long, slender claws curling around Dance's fragile cervical vertebrae possessively, protectively. Dance sighed happily at the touch, purring as they found and exploited every joint, every weakness, systematically destroying Dance's critical thinking skills. Slowly, those gentle claws worked their way down, lower, lower, working out aches and pains Dance hadn't even realized were there.

All Dance could really feel was _good_ , was _safe_ , was _loved_. Echoes of _happiness_ and _pleasure_ and _arousal_ buffeted at his hypnagogic SOUL. Was it him that wanted to be touched? Was it him that wanted to do the touching? Dance couldn't tell anymore. All he knew for sure was that he felt _good_ , he felt _safe_ , and he was suddenly craving intimacy.

_But his mates were here._

_But how to let them know what he wanted?_

Dance couldn't even think in coherent words, nevermind speak them. His initial desire to communicate something, this nameless desire, resulted in a breathy, wordless moan. He could hear his mates voices, low and soft and reassuring:

"that feel good, baby~? glad to hear it~“

"theres a good kitten, keep purrin' fer me."

A part of Dance was frustrated that he couldn't control the situation, that he couldn't express more clearly that he _wanted_. A part of him tried to claw its way back to the surface, but every stroke, every scratch, every pet, every echo of _love_ and _contentment_ , just dragged him back down. He was _comfortable_ , he felt _safe_ , _loved_ , and damn if this wouldn't be the perfect scenario if he could just sate this _need_.

Fighting the current wouldn't get him anywhere. Dance heard himself let out a frustrated, needy whine. His mates cooed over him, comforting and tender, drowning him in affections and reassurances. 

"we gotcha, kitten."

"you're okay, baby. we love you~"

Dance knew that. He knew that. He didn't quite have the presence of mind to appreciate it, but he knew it. He was choking on their _love_ and _affection_ , smothered in it, in the best way. He _had_ to let them know. Somehow. Somehow.

* * *

Red watched with undeniable satisfaction as Dance fell apart under his hands. It was about time. Dance had been tense and overly sensitive lately. This had been a great idea. He smirked over Dance's body at Lust, who was smiling fondly down at their mutual pet. Dance let out another musical little keening noise as Red's hands kneaded at his iliac crests. The bone was starting to flush that pretty blue color, warming under his touch.

Red wasn't expecting it, but as he worked at Dance's hips, he felt soft, warm pseudo-flesh take shape under his hands, deep blue and feverish, quivering as his rough claws ghosted over the surface tenderly, carefully, reverently. Red smirked. "oh, kitten, need some'n'?"

Dance made a demanding, needy little grumbling noise, which might have been petulant if he hadn't been half asleep and so comfortable it was making Red drowsy just looking at him. He shifted his hips, like he was trying to grind into Red's hand, but didn't have the energy to follow through.

Red cupped the tender summoned skin in either hand, squeezing gently, appreciating the lean, tone muscle underneath from years of perfecting an art so abruptly abandoned. Such ministrations earned Red a contented sigh. Red bent down, nuzzling into the softness of it. He really wasn't that big into fleshy bits... but his pets made it look good.

Lust giggled, sockets drifting to half mast as his eyelights shifted to hearts. "i think someone wants a little more than just a massage~"

Red snickered, spreading the two sections of malleable magic, revealing Dance's rarely used entrance, now quivering and twitching. Red stuck out his tongue, prodding at it, gently, carefully. "want some extra attention, kitten?" He rumbled low, nibbling gently at the surrounding pseudoflesh. He already had a good guess as to the answer from the puddle starting to soak the sheets under him.

Dance made an agreeable, affirming noise, breathy and rough. Lust purred, bending down to shower Dance in little kisses, all over the top of his skull, murmuring sweet little praises and reassurances Red barely paid any mind to. He returned to preparing Dance, starting with his tongue, enjoying every little twitch and gasp and moan he could wring out of him. When his tongue could do no more, Red started using his fingers, working slow, slow, careful, well aware that his claws were sharp and one wrong move could make this less than pleasant for his pet. He kept careful watch over Dance, vigilant for any sign of discomfort. Dance remained pliant, drowsy, and relaxed, sleepy little incoherent mumbles that sounded like drunken affirmations occasionally escaping him.

Red worked slow, patient, taking his time. The last thing he wanted was to pull Dance out of whatever comfortable little trance they had finally gotten him in. Minutes ticked by, and still Red carefully stretched his less experienced lover, kneading at one ass cheek absently as he worked, feeling how the usual experience of rushing water that accompanied Dance's magic had stilled to that of a serene lake, only disturbed by the occasional ripple that followed what must have been a particularly enjoyable sensation.

Red tried prodding at Dance's entrance with his own magic, nosing at him with the tip. Dance's response was promising, sleepy little mumbles accompanying the damn-near hypnotic wiggle of his hips, inviting. Red eased in, biting back a groan of his own at the tight, electrical sensation of being devoured by Dance's essence. The gentle lap of the tide, the serenity of a still lake, ocean winds, the calmest he has ever felt Dance be. Red eased in a little more, inching carefully forward.

He was going to make this the best, more satisfying night Dance has ever had.

* * *

Lust watched with bated breath, shivering in anticipation. Red eased himself forward until he was sheathed to the hilt inside Dance. Dance took it well, so relaxed and blissed out that even Red's intimidating size wasn't too much, especially with all the prep and care that had been taken. Given the full body shiver that ran through Dance, the moan that ripped out of him, the wet puddle that suddenly got so much bigger underneath him, Dance must have been enjoying himself tremendously; enough to come, crying out as he tensed and clung to Lust's lap, before again going limp as a happy little rag doll.

Lust purred, scratching tenderly at Dance's jaw, brushing sweat from his face, captivated by his blissful expression, his soft panting, everything about this moment.

Red wasn't unaffected either. His face had gradually brightened in an increasingly more vivid blush, gradating from that adorable soft pink that had been gracing his expression all evening, to the vibrant scarlet it was now. He was shaking, drenched in sweat of his own and already reaching his own limit just from bottoming out. Lust couldn't help but smile at it, at how hard he was trying to keep himself composed despite everything.

Red lowered himself down, curling around Dance protectively, and pulled him to his chest. Then Red rolled to one side, settling on the pillow beside Lust, freeing his lap.

Dance was pliant, only shifting enough to get comfortable, cradled in Red's protective embrace, for once being the little spoon.

"oh, fuck, kitten, yer so..!" Red groaned into Dance's shoulder, going as cross-eyed as a one-eyelight'd skeleton was capable of.

Dance whined, shivering.

Lust snuggled up to Dance's front, kissing him, slow and gentle. "i'm still here, baby..." He murmured reassuringly, pressing himself as close as possible, sharing the body heat Dance craved. Dance again went limp, his twitching dying down as he settled back into his meditative state, sandwiched between his lovers, comfortable and warm and loved.

Red took a few moments to compose himself, throwing the arm not currently stretched out as a pillow for both Dance and Lust to rest against around the both of them, pulling Lust closer, tighter. After he'd gotten himself pulled back together, Lust felt the gentle rocking of his hips, slow, easy gyrations as he dragged himself in and out of Dance in the sweetest lovemaking.

The pace was achingly slow by Lust's standards, and would have been blissful torture either giving or receiving on his part, but it seemed for his datemates it was a good pace. Red wasn't being overwhelmed, and it made it easier for Dance to take him despite Red's size and Dance's lack of experience being the bottom. Dance remained in that calming state between wakefulness and sleep, his beautiful baritone ringing out regularly in a sleepy little mewling cry, or a soft breathy moan.

Lust snuggled closer, one hand drifting down to free his own erection. He then wrapped his one leg over Dance's hip, pressing their magic together at tightly as possible, and enjoyed the gentle, unhurried ride. The gentle buzzing of magic against magic, the comfortable presence of both his datemates, and the slow, hypnotic pace, had Lust joining Dance in a doze.

When Lust was again aware of himself, he could feel the steady thrum of a satisfying afterglow, and the weight of both his datemates at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and red didn't get much sleep that night, but he made damn sure both of his pets had pleasant dreams. and dance finally got a dicking (probably the second time but still) but he didnt get wrecked because it's red and red is a service top and dance didn't demand to be wrecked like lust did
> 
> sometimes even a dom like dance needs to have time to be pampered


	31. Day 30: Surprise!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Gagging; Stockings/Tights/Pantyhose; Breast Worship
> 
> Pairing: Alphyne (Alphys x Undyne)
> 
> Other Tags: Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscles)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~1.4k of a ship i love but can't write for beans
> 
> i'm sorry for butchering the glory that is alphyne with my GARBAGE XD  
> (but it just wouldn't be an undertail kinktober without them now would it?)

Alphys paced in front of the door, the dim porch light swinging from the awning overhead, making her shadow stretch out around her like a chubby moldsmol. Wringing her hands nervously, she again looked at the entrance to Undyne's house. Undyne hadn't said why she wanted her to come over. To be fair, it wasn't the first time Alphys had been to her girlfriend's house. And it wasn't the first time the invitation had come so abruptly.

But it begged the question: could it be that this time... Undyne wanted to end it?

Alphys felt her SOUL quake at the thought, and her resolve to knock shatter. She went back to pacing.

She went through the same disparaging cycle three more times (for a grand total of 18 that night) before finally dredging up the courage to knock.

"CONGRATULATIONS!!" Papyrus' voice called from the neighboring house's second floor window, causing Alphys to jump with a shriek. "YOU KNOCKED AFTER ONLY 87 MINUTES!! THATS A NEW RECORD!!!"

Alphys laughed nervously, looking away as she gripped her elbow with the opposite arm. "Oh y-yeah?? Uh, th-thanks??"

"YOU ARE MOST WELCOME!!" Papyrus replied without any sign of sarcasm. "ALSO, UNDYNE IS NOT GOING TO ANSWER THE DOOR. USE THE KEY UNDER THE MAT!"

"WHAT?!" Alphys dropped to her knees to swipe up the spare key. "W-why didn't you tell me sooner?!?!?!?!?!"

"BECAUSE YOU HAD NOT YET KNOCKED!!" The skeleton answered. "YOU CANNOT TELL SOMEONE WHO IS OR IS NOT THERE UNTIL THEY KNOCK!!" Alphys heard the sound of a deep belly laugh come from somewhere else in that house, faint and muffled but unmistakable. Papyrus looked behind him, back into the house, telling someone, "OF COURSE IT WAS!! I SAID IT!!" Then looked back at Alphys. "THE OINTMENT IS UNDER THE SINK. HAVE FUN!!" Then he was gone, disappearing back into his own house, his signature laughter left in his wake.

Alphys glared ruefully up at the now empty window, convinced that Papyrus enjoyed playing the fool far too much for anyone's own good (except maybe Papyrus' ...or Sans'). She shook her head, reminding herself that he meant well (and he was right, she had improved, she was getting better, and that was something to be proud of) as she stuck the key into the lock and turned it, entering the house.

The lights were off, but shining echo flower petals lit a trail leading toward Undyne's bedroom. Alphys followed it hesitantly, listening for signs of her girlfriend in the quiet.

"U-undyne?"

No answer.

The bedroom door was ajar. The petals clearly led inside. Alphys swallowed, suddenly aware she had seen something like this in an anime as she pushed the door the rest of the way open.

There was Undyne, tied up in an intricate shibari-style diamond-pattern weave with bright gold rope, arms secured behind her back, wearing nothing but her eyepatch, a pair of honey-gold stockings, and a matching ballgag. The fish monster's one good eye crinkled in delight, smiling behind the gag at Alphys, like just her appearing had made her day. She wiggled, showing off the sleek, toned muscle that was barely restrained by the rope, her voice garbled as she let out what might have been a greeting.

Alphys covered her nose, knowing it couldn't be bleeding (monsters don't bleed, of course it isn't bleeding) but feeling so dazed and drained and psychologically assaulted that she wouldn't be surprised in the least if _something_ had come leaking out, dislodged from the attack to her SOUL by the delicious sight before her. It took a few minutes of Alphys just... drinking this in. She could barely believe it, that Undyne would go out of her way to do this, to wrap herself up as a gift for Alphys to enjoy.

And Alphys planned to enjoy.

After letting the initial shock wear off, the lizard monster tossed her labcoat to the floor, jumping on the bed and nuzzling into Undyne, worshiping her with kisses. She didn't have any words, she couldn't ever hope to put how she felt into words. Undyne grinned wider, nuzzling her back, relaxed and content.

Maybe that was what the gag was for. So Alphys wouldn't feel obligated to make conversation.

Alphys carefully lowered Undyne back onto the bed, taking the thoughtfulness at face value, and began her shoddy attempt to return the favor.

The lizard started by sliding her hands over every inch of Undyne she could reach, paying special attention to her chest. The scales there, the loveliest iridescent blue, were softer, lacking the scuffs and scratches her arms and neck and face did. Alphys marveled at just how ethereal, how glorious, her girlfriend was. She stroked over the shimmering flakes of color, smiling at how Undyne's breath hitched, how her body shook. Such encouraging responses... Alphys continued to test her theory, petting at Undyne's toned chest, occasionally tugging lightly at the ropes before using her thumb to scratch lightly at the tender flesh under the scales.

Undyne moaned behind her gag, her one golden eye constricting, rolling up into the back of her head.

Alphys sighed, nuzzling, feeling her magic rush to her cheeks as her SOUL pulsed warmly at the sight.

As Alphys continued to lavish attention to Undyne's impressive pectorals, she had her tail coil around one of Undyne's legs, rubbing at her girlfriend's upper thigh. Alphys squeezed gently, whimpering in delight at feeling how strong, how toned, how defined Undyne's muscles were, knowing full well it wasn't for show, that every inch of definition was 999% functional, that her girlfriend could rip the ropes accentuating her body like tissue paper and toss Alphys out the window, then jump out said window, race across the yard, and catch her like a football.

And those legs were dressed in the most scandalous stockings the _same color as Alphys' scales!!!_ Alphys groaned, teasing the tip of her tail right along the elastic band holding the stockings up, eliciting a shiver from her girlfriend.

Alphys couldn't take it anymore. Faster than she realized she was capable of, Alphys shimmied down Undyne's body, settling between her legs. She threw one over her shoulder, only pausing long enough to give Undyne a saucy wink before shoving the entirety of her long, lizard-like tongue up into Undyne's cloaca. Undyne's back arched clear off the bed, a scream ripping out of her. Alphys undulated her tongue more, tasting the magic that made up Undyne's entire being, wet and strong, salty and a little bitter, reminding Alphys of goldenflower tea brewed in sea water. The taste by itself was enough to have Alphys rutting into her own hand, moaning softly, feeling the tingling vibrations in her core that meant she and Undyne were starting to sync, that their SOULs were singing as one.

That Undyne loved her.

Alphys felt herself spasm with her own release, just as a rush of liquid and tell-tale muscle contractions signaled Undyne had also come. The lizard continued to work her mate through her release, humming happily before finally pulling her tongue back into her mouth.

Undyne was a sweaty, blushing wreck, chest heaving as she tried to blink away spots from her vision.

ALphys giggled softly, crawling up to unhook the gag, and ease it carefully from between Undyne's teeth. "S-sorry... Guess I got carried away again..."

Undyne took a deep breath. "You don't... EVER... need to apologize for that. Holy..." She took a few more moments to try and compose herself. "...Have I ever told you how much I _love_ your PASSION?!"

"Maybe once or twice," Alphys admitted, starting to fumble for the end of the rope, untying the fish monster a little at a time.

Undyne smirked, rolling to one side to give Alphys easier access to the rope. As they worked it off, Alphys could see that Undyne's squirming had caused the soft rope to scrape off a few of her scales here and there. After it was all undone, and Undyne tossed it off the bed to be dealt with later, Alphys tried to go find some ointment to help with the loss.

Undyne, however, had different ideas. She immediately snagged Alphys into a tight embrace, nibbling on her shoulder affectionately as she held her close.

Alphys flushed, more flustered by the obvious gestures of affection than by having just had her tongue inside her girlfriend. "U-Undyne!! We should g-get those scales t-taken care of..!"

"Mmmm... later," Undyne huffed, snuggling closer, uninterested in anything but being close and surfing the afterglow.

Alphys sighed, nuzzling back. She supposed it wouldn't make that much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. Besides, who was she to complain, being cuddled by the best girlfriend in the world?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus is the kind of ride-or-die best friend who would totally help you set up a kinky present for your demisexual lizard scientist girlfriend and you cannot convince me otherwise
> 
> undyne was sitting there waiting for over an hour and a half and lets be honest thats why she needed the gag - so she wouldn't scream and ruin the surprise (or scream and startle alphys when she came in)


	32. Day 31: Burlesque, Ch22 Alt Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: anything
> 
> Pairing: Krumping (Underfell Sans x Dancetale Sans)
> 
> Other Tags: sensitive bones, blowjobs, anal
> 
> Warnings: frustration and internal screaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~5.3k (957 of which was already written) of what would of happened in [Burlesque, Chapter 22](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372225/chapters/37632638) if Lust hadn't come home when he did

Dance took a shortcut to Lust's apartment, wanting, _needing_ , a little warmth and stability.

It was only when he got there, and found Red sleeping on the couch, alone, that Dance remembered Lust had work today too. Dance stepped closer to the couch, looking over Red. He'd had a shower, now wearing a mustard yellow shirt and red boxer shorts. A lilac blanket with pink bone prints was crumpled on the floor by the couch, having apparently slid off of him at some point after he'd drifted. He was clutching to one of the cushions, snoring softly as he drooled on it.

Red's coat was there on the back of the couch, unoccupied at the moment.

Dance seriously considered borrowing it. _Just for a little while. Just for a bit. Just until Red wakes up and he can try talking this out again._

Dance shook his head, turning his attention to Red himself.

The video echoed in his head, shifting back and forth between the third person perspective and the hazy, shredded memories diluted by alcohol.

Dance picked up the discarded blanket, leaning over Red to tuck it around him. Before he could pull back, Red's claw snaked out, snatching at Dance's wrist, his hold tight and unyielding. Red's socket snapped open, sharp and dangerous. Dance stared back at him, a shiver of fear shaking him to his core, that _maybe he had been right all along, maybe it had all been a trick, maybe-!_

Then the doubts were gone, and Red's grip loosened to something more delicate, firm but unresistant. "dance..?" Red asked, voice rough from sleep.

"we need to talk," Dance blurted. "uh. again."

Red groaned, letting go of Dance and rolling over, pulling the pastel purple blanket over his head. "lemme alone..." he mumbled, voice muffled by sleep and the cushion he was smooshing himself into.

Dance just stood there, blinking down dumbly at the sight before him: Here was a monster, LV14, who could have taken on a gang of thugs single-handedly; who drank and smoked and gambled with other similarly experienced and dangerous monsters; who was covered in scars, built like a tank, and could easily crush him with both hands tied behind his back; here was that same monster, hiding under a pastel purple knitted blanket, from a talk with him.

Surely Dance would be forgiven for laughing, the ridiculousness of the picture before him overriding any annoyance he might have been feeling at the moment.

"fuck you!" Red growled, sounding more petulant than angry.

"is that an invitation?" Dance asked.

"wut?" Red looked over his shoulder, peaking out from under the blanket.

"i said..." Dance started, suddenly realizing how much of an idiot he sounded like, how foolish and forward and utterly humiliating. "i- i said... uh..." He backed up a step, stuffing is hands in his pockets. "just seems like a _blanket_ invitation."

Red growled. "don't even fuckin' start."

" _quilt_ the accident, i assure ya," Dance lied, like a liar.

"nah, see..." Red sat up, moving slowly, tossing the blanket aside with one hand as he reached for Dance with the other. "pretty sure yer just chicken t' put yer money where yer mouth is."

"never been one to _eat_ my words," Dance retorted, tensing as he felt Red's claw grip at his hoodie, felt that gentle, tentative pressure as Red tugged just enough to coax him in his direction, but not pull him anywhere.

"i got somethin' better fer that mouth t' do than rattle off shitty puns," Red grumbled, keeping his voice low even as he guided Dance to come closer. Dance took the few steps needed to close the distance between them, finding himself standing between Red's splayed legs.

"what? my humor not your _taste_?" Dance asked.

Red clicked his teeth. "puns 'r b-tier jokes at best, 'n ev'ryone knows it."

"puns are hilarious," Dance argued, though even he could hear his voice lacked any real bite to it. _Why was he so comfortable, standing like this, with Red's claws so close to his throat?_ "but i'll give ya one thing; theres more entertaining stuff out there."

"yeah, like knock knock jokes," Red huffed.

"no," Dance huffed back, gripping Red's wrist and yanking it off him, before leaning forward enough to pin it to the back of the couch, one foot coming up to step on the cushion between Red's legs, letting him gain another inch in height by arching onto his toes. "like the noises you were making during out vacation."

Red's expression went slack, eyelight going out from shock, before it returned, smoldering, muted, shimmering with that lighter color Dance still couldn't quite identify. "oh-ho! kitten's got claws!" He snarked, leaning back as Dance loomed over him, sinking lower into the couch, nullifying the height difference between them. "what'cha gonna do? scratch me?"

"among other things," Dance growled at him, and he didn't miss the way Red's body shivered, how his fingers twitched and his face glimmered faintly with ruby light. The scent of watermelon and smoke and salt drifted faintly into the air. Dance leaned forward. "and if we're talking claws, i think it's you whose the kitten."

Red gulped visibly, the light dusting of magic swelling over his nasal ridge to a pleasant shimmering pink. _Stars, Dance wanted to see that light all over._ Dance pressed his thumb into Red's metacarpals, running slowly over the spaces between them. He could feel the energy there, the hum of a dangerous, powerful song, the chill of winter, the strength of the wind, the taste of watermelon. Each brush of his thumbs threw up sparks of _protection_ and _safely_ , sending a rush straight down to Dance's disobedient SOUL.

"don't think i'mma just sit here 'n take it," Red huffed out, the hand not pinned coming up to grasp at Dance's hoodie.

Dance reached out with his own free hand, gripping Red's chin, _daring_ him as he leaned closer. "you'll sit wherever i tell you to sit," Dance growled back. "and you'll _like it._ "

Red shivered, the vibrance in his flushed face growing brighter. "'n why th' fuck would i listen t' ya fer shit?" He asked, but his voice was soft.

Dance dug his thumb into the space between his metacarpals, watching with _surprise_ and no small amount of _pleasure_ as Red's whole body stiffened, then went slack, his breathing becoming stuttered and labored. "because," Dance answered slowly, working out the real reason for himself as he looked at Red, _really_ looked at him. "because you want something from me. the question is what you're willing to do to get it." As he spoke, Dance kept strumming at the strands of magic in Red's hand, sending up those _soothing_ crimson sparks, leaning in closer, closer, closer.

"ya ain't got no fuckin' clue what i want from ya," Red hissed, voice dripping in _hurt_ and _want_ and a little _jealousy_. "if ya did, ya wouldn't be-"

Dance cut him off, pressing their teeth together, sick of waiting, sick of playing it safe. What was there to play safe _from_? This kitten had already been declawed a long time ago.

Red curled his free arm around Dance, pulling him the rest of the way into his lap. Dance had to shift his weight, catching himself on his knees on the couch, straddling one of Red's legs. He didn't mind, because suddenly he was drowning in _contentment_ and _safety_ and the taste of watermelon. He thrust his tongue out, growling into Red's teeth, demanding compliance. Red snaked his own tongue out, having the _nerve_ to try and take control. Dance twisted, fought, taking the advantage centimeter by centimeter, until he was able to ravage Red's maw, tasting the tangy combination of mustard, booze, smoke, and watermelon that had his rebellious SOUL quivering in victory. The noise Red made, of _surprise_ , of _acceptance_ , of _submission_ , had Dance's magic pumping like nothing else.

Dance didn't break the kiss (neither of them needed to breath) as he let go of Red's chin and snaked his hand down, slipping it under Red's threadbare yellow shirt to reach his unprotected spine. Just sliding his hand into the area of Red's midriff had him shivering from the energy, the cold that should have had him terrified, the power that could have snapped him in half. But Red wasn't moving, wasn't fighting him, hadn't even tried to take his hand back from where Dance had it trapped. Red's other hand was settled between his scapulae, claws curled inward so his spine was cradled between his knuckles.

The first drag of Dance's fingers along Red's spine drug out the most _satisfying_ throaty groan from Red, which Dance was _happy_ to drink in. Then Red started shaking in his hand, trembling like a leaf in the wind, and Dance was suddenly _terrified, what the hell was he doing, he needed to pull back, he needed to pull back what if he scared-?!_

**W a i t .**

Dance pulled out of the kiss, blinking down at Red, who was stiff and rigid and flushed that lovely cherry color. _Wait a minute. Why the hell would Dance be afraid of scaring Red?_

That makes no sense.

Why?

Unless..?!

Dance felt the strangest mix of shock, horror, and elation, his thought process culminating to the ultimate, irrefutable conclusion that, _'That wasn't me. That wasn't what I was feeling at all. That's not me. So. It has to be Red.'_

"oh my god, i'm channeling you."

Red blinked up at him with so much _confusion_ it was palpable (or maybe that was just Dance's damaged, uninsulated SOUL picking up way too many signals it shouldn't be). "wut?"

Dance quickly parsed through the tangle of emotions echoing through his being. He never would have noticed the differences if he hadn't started looking for them, the slight shift in pitch, timbre, hue, that let him pull the two of them apart (even if it took some serious focus, and patience, and made his head hurt). Dance was feeling so many things at the moment, but he was most definitely not the one feeling afraid for once. _Dance wasn't the one feeling afraid_. Or hurt. That bitter lump that was trying to form in his nonexistent throat, stronger with every second, wasn't from _him_.

The realization that Red was feeling all of this, had probably _been_ feeling all of this, made Dance want to laugh. So he did. He laughed, the relief of it all, that Dance had been wrong, that there was every chance in the world if one of them would just reach out and take that first step, was overwhelming.

"th' fucks so funny?!" Red demanded, _indignation_ rising up like a shield attempting to hide the _bitter regret_ Dance would never have been able to read on his face.

"us," Dance answered. "god, we need to talk."

"thats what you've been sayin' fer two days, but i ain't heard a damn thing 'bout what th' fuck ya want!" Red growled, jaw clenched tight even as the rest of him remained loose, pliant, yielding under Dance's hand.

"i've never been good at talking things out..." Dance admitted, squeezing gently at Red's spine, smirking at the way that simple little motion made his whole face light up like a giftmas light. "so let me just... show you." He might not be able to dance anymore (might not trust himself, might despise his traitorous SOUL and never want to hear it sing again), but there were other ways to show someone how you feel. Like the ways Lust had shown him.

And now that he was literally on the same wavelength as Red (and aware of it, _holy hell_ it was weird to think about how much of his feelings had been responses to that, weird to think how much Red's nihilism and self doubt and fear felt like his), Dance didn't really need to hear him try to explain himself either.

They could just express themselves.

Red's _hesitation_ was palpable, even without Dance's broken empathic sensors. He averted his gaze, the hand on Dance's back clenching into a fist, his scowl deepening. Dance felt heat building up on the inside of his sockets, tears threatening to spill, a physiological response to the _bitterness_ and _frustration_ Red was choking on.

 _Okay, maybe they did need to say a few things_. "whats got you so upset now?"

"i-!" Red started, before clicking his teeth shut hard. "...why does it matter? ya just want t' get along fer Lust's sake right? well, here i am, gettin' along. what th' fuck else 'm i s'pose t' do?"

Dance let go of Red's spine, bringing his hand up again to clutch at his clavicle. "moron. stars, you're so fucking stupid."

"who th' fuck ya callin' s-" Dance cut Red off with another kiss, pressing forward even more, settling comfortably in Red's lap. Red held him there, steady and _safe_ , with his free hand, a low vibration quivering in his ribs, traveling through Dance's hand and up his arm. Dance ground his thumb into Red's trapped palm, sending up another wave of those delightful sparks.

"you, ya moron," Dance panted softly as he pulled away again. "this has nothing to do with lust. it hasn't since that night."

Red blinked up at him, face unreadable, but he was throwing off waves of _confusion_ that gradually shifted to _elation_. Dance felt his own SOUL pulse with responding joy. _Finally. Finally there was going to be understanding._ Then Red's teeth turned up into a predatory smirk. "so yer gonna be my pet, fer real? all official like? ain't gonna bitch when i check in on ya?" Red dragged his knuckles down Dance's spine, oozing _satisfaction_ , _relief_ , _confidence_ , victory blazing in his eyelight. "gonna let me take care o' ya?"

Dance raised a bone brow. "take care of me? what, you're gonna do whatever i want?"

Red raised a brow at him. "i mean... yeah? thats kind o' th' deal?" Red's free hand continued to rub up and down Dance's back, slow, gentle, comforting. "if yer my pet, i take care o' ya, do whatever ya need, keep ya safe, fed, warm, all that shit." He looked up at Dance, that soft pink, still glimmering on his nasal ridge, contrasting with the deeper, darker, murky red-brown his eyelight had become, shimmering with a lighter color Dance still couldn't recognize. "gonna lemme do that fer ya?"

Dance hummed thoughtfully, a plan hatching in his head. "ok. then lets start by having you close your eyes and hold still."

Red's sockets shut, despite the _nervous_ fluttering of his SOUL that Dance could feel through his magic. _Trust_ , weak and hesitant but still there, struck Dance through his core. Dance was starting to see what it was Lust saw in him. It was... honestly adorable. Dance leaned in again, taking Red's tongue hostage once more with his own, teeth pressed together. _The taste was intoxicating._ Dance was having trouble remembering why he had ever been averse to the idea of being this close with Red. _Safety_ and _protectiveness_ and a steadily building _loyalty_ had Dance getting more and more comfortable in Red's lap.

Even the chill that laced through Red's essence was becoming easier to bear, bringing with it a soothing balm instead of the bitter bite he would have expected.

Comfortable, his thumb still strumming idly at the magic in Red's palm, Dance turned his attention to what he was really looking for. He again slipped his hand under Red's shirt, shivering at the cold as his arm was swallowed by Red's essence. Red's free hand rubbed soothingly at his back, the gentle touch and Red's spike of _worry_ and _fear_ reminding Dance that he was safe, he was _safe_. His fingers probed cautiously, looking for the telltale texture that would let him know by touch alone that he had found one of Red's larger scars. Most of what he found were light scratches, patterns etched into the bone that probably wouldn't be visible to the naked eye. Touching them sent a shiver down Red's spine, sparking his magic. Dance grinned, snickering into the kiss as he explored blindly.

Soon his exploration was rewarded; Dance found a chip missing from between two of Red's ribs. Red shivered under his touch, a delightful noise ripped from him that Dance drank in greedily. He could feel how hot, how energized, Red's bones were running, flushed (and probably glowing) under his hand, already agitated thanks to the easy, gentle touches and steady strumming he'd been doing already. _Embarrassment_ ran through him like a tidal wave, which only made it better (since it meant Red wasn't doing it on purpose, wasn't knowingly pushing all of Dance's buttons).

Dance pulled back form the kiss, yanking Red's shirt up to see it, the beautiful lightshow that had been plaguing his imagination for too long. He felt his own voice, low and deep and feral, rumble in his chest. _This was going to be his now._ Dance was in control, and now he had what he wanted.

Red had just given it to him, just like Lust had.

"th fuck..?" Red asked, voice softer, shaken, breathless despite not actually needed to breath. His arm was still pliant under Dance's hand. His eyes remained shut. The only movement was the occasional twitch of his fingers, and that rhythmic rubbing motion his other hand was making into Dance's back. The fact Red was taking Dance's wishes so seriously was _exhilarating_.

"its called intimacy," Dance said, digging the tips of his fingers into a particularly deep scratch, watching as the hot and cold feeling of Red's magic spasmed around his phalanges, how the sheen of glistening sweat that had gathered on the surface of his greyed bones shimmered with it, reflecting the crimson color back in slightly more pastel shades. "its being nice... unless you don't like it?"

Dance paused, letting Red gather himself, watching the light slowly fade.

"...its fine," Red rumbled. "whatever ya want's fine. if i ain't up fer it, 's'not like i cant knock ya off, yeah?"

Dance dug his fingers in again. "you can. but you won't." He said, more of an order and less of an observation. "if something isn't good for you, you're just gonna say so. i'll stop. but you won't force me off."

Red's body shook, but his smirk didn't falter. _Understanding_ , _trust_ , and _acceptance_ wafted off of him, the _fear_ and _worry_ slowly dissipating. "'k. works fer me, kitten."

Dance felt tension that had been in his shoulders ease. He leaned down, pressing his teeth to one of the deeper cuts, darting his tongue out to taste Red's essence. The heavy watermelon and salt flavor hit him like a truck, dragging an appreciative groan out of him that almost masked the equally delicious noise Red made at the sensation. _The taste was amazing._ He thought it had smelled good, felt good, he'd thought the taste from Red's tongue had been good, but _holy shit_ , Red's pure, untainted magic was _addicting_. He wrapped his mouth around the bone, sucking on it, lapping at the leaking magical discharge like an overly frozen popsicle, aggressively drinking it in.

Dance felt the way Red's body jerked involuntarily with each swipe of his tongue, felt the way his ribs quaked with his energy, with a sound just out of his auditory range. _Embarrassment_ and _resolve_ seeped from him, as he held still at Dance's command, even as an unidentified _good_ feeling threatened to overwhelm them both. And with each passing moment, Dance could feel the tension in Red's body coil ever tighter, feel the spasming palpations in his magic become faster, more frequent.

He heard that deep, steady motor noise he fell in love with, just for a moment, before it was cut off, followed by another wave of _embarrassment_ and _frustration_.

Dance pulled his mouth away, curling his fingers through Red's intercostal spaces with his one had, his other still thumbing idly at Red's palm. "why'd you stop?"

"stop what?" Red asked, voice even softer, more rough and muddled, like it had been that night.

"the purring," Dance answered. "why did you stop?"

Red clenched his jaw tighter. "dumb noise. i know its creepy. just ignore it."

Dance had to take a moment to process the admission. "no. you said you'd do anything i wanted right?" he scratched lightly at the inner surface of Red's ribs. "so purr for me."

Red responded immediately, his ribcage starting to expand and contract as that steady rumbling noise filled the air.

The smell in the air. The sound. The light. Dance had it. He finally had it. And he was still in control.

Dance pulled his hand away from Red's ribs, reaching down to slide under the waistband of his boxers. "now make a-" Dance had to swallow back a pool of excess magic that gathered in his mouth. "form a..."

Red's smug snickering flit through the air, interrupting his purring. "prude. can't even say what'cha want?" His _amusement_ at Dance's fumbling had heat rising to Dance's face.

"you _know_ what i want," Dance defended, knowing he sounded petulant. "you _ass_ -"

"naw, pretty sure what yer beggin' fer's my _cock_ ," Red quipped, his smirk only growing wider.

"how about you shut up, put your hands behind your head, and form them both for me? how about that?" Dance growled, finally letting go of Red's wrist as he slid off his lap.

Red practically giggled. "whatever ya want, kitten," he purred, putting his hands behind his head, leaning back as he spread his legs. A bright crimson glow from beneath Red's blood-red boxers, filtering through the now bulging fabric as well as from his pelvic inlet, told Dance he had been obeyed.

Dance knelt between Red's splayed legs, gripping his boxers and working them down. Red, apparently finally deciding to be helpful for once in his life, lifted his hips, then shifted first one leg than another until Dance had the cloth pooled around one of his ankles, finally out of his way. Red's erection stood tall, longer and thicker than Dance had ever seen before, leaking a pastel pink liquid that smelt of his addiction.

Dance gripped it, shivering at how the false flesh burned feverishly even as the magic from which it was made cracked with the chill of suppressed LV. He licked his teeth.

"hey, uh, need help preparin' yerself before ya-" Red started (what almost sounded like a considerate offer), which cut off with a rather undignified high pitched whine as Dance dragged his tongue along the underside, slurping up the dribbling liquid magic. The taste was _indescribable_ : watermelon and sunlight and curling up safe in front of a fire from a winter storm, salt and safety, strength and an unfathomable kindness with a refreshing hint of cucumber..?

Dance took the first half of the shaft into his mouth and started to drink, coaxing a steady flow with his tongue as he pumped the base with his hand, trying to wring out as much of Red's magic as he could. The taste, the energy, was intoxicating, sweeter than any wine and more exhilarating than any gambling victory. The only thing that compared was the taste of Lust.

Above him, Dance heard Red's purring stutter to a halt, cut off by a muffled groan that Red seemed to be trying to choke back. Dance pulled his mouth away. "hey. i told you to purr, remember?" He hummed, his free hand gripping at Red's femur, running up and down the shaft until he found a scar to tease at.

Waves of _embarrassment_ rolled off of Red. "heh. ya- ya really don't want me t-"

Dance squeezed at Red's dick, wringing a cry out of him. "i asked you to purr for me. so go on. start purring," he said evenly, watching Red's face. Red gasped, the tension in his jaw going slack, before Dance once again heard the low rumbling of a healthy motor. "good kitten," Dance purred approvingly.

He didn't miss the shot of _joy_ from Red, the way his magic spasmed, his purring grew louder, his dick twitched eagerly in his hand, from his words. _That was interesting. He'd need to ask Lust about that later._

Dance returned to enjoying his guilty pleasure. To his utter delight, it seemed that Red couldn't keep up his purring and also bite back his other noises. Red's voice rang out, sometimes a low keen, sometimes a high pitched mewl, sometimes a ragged, breathy pant. The occasional obscenity, damp and slurred, interrupted them. As Dance watched, excess magic slid down from Red's still closed sockets, from between his teeth, joining the perpetual sweat to glisten in the light of his overactive magic pooling in his scars.

Dance felt his own magic responding to the sight, the sound, the feel; how _trusting_ and _agreeable_ and _happy_ Red was, how _comfortable_ he was and how comforting it was to be so close despite everything. Dance groaned, half in bliss at the experience, and half in annoyance at his SOULs apparent reflex to form his own magic under these circumstances. He reached down with the hand not still on Red's length, freeing his own throbbing length and smearing his hand with his own pre. He then brought that hand up and, using the pastel blue liquid now coating his fingers, began to work at Red's puckered entrance.

Red yelped in _surprise_. "th' f-! fuck~~! fuck 'r y-ya doin' d-! down th-there?!" he tried to snarl between much heavier panting, louder moans. Dance felt his dick swell, the steady stream of magic that had been weeping from it growing stronger.

Dance smirked, popping Red out of his mouth to reply. "preparing you. whats it feel like?" Returning Red's magic to his mouth, Dance thrust his finger into Red's hole, curling it and scraping against the summoned flesh. A cry ripped out of Red's nonexistent throat, and a deluge of liquid magic shot into Dance's mouth. Dance worked his finger with a vigor, swallowing the carbonated, electrically charged liquid as best he could, moaning himself at the taste, the feel of it, hot and cold and powerful, being absorbed into his body, drenching him in the scent that had haunted his daydreams.

Red shuddered and convulsed as he was assaulted with overstimulation, aborted curses falling from his teeth like the little flecks of pink saliva. He was buffeting Dance with a myriad of emotions, most of them meshing into a hodgepodge of something _good_. Dance added a second phalanx to his ass, scissoring his hole wider and wider as he made sure to drink every drop Red had to give. By the time Dance was certain he had gotten it all, and pulled himself off of Red, licking his teeth (which he was certain were tinted pink by now), Red's magic was stretched and ready, twitching around his fingers, trying to suck him in further. He yanked his fingers out, enjoying the whimper that escaped Red in response, before lining up his own aching magic.

Red was rattling, _nervous_ and _uncertain_ despite the _trust_ still standing strong.

"red," Dance murmured quietly, "give me one of your hands."

Red took a shuddered breath, before pulling one hand from behind his head and holding it out blindly in front of him.

He still hadn't opened his sockets.

Dance threaded his fingers between Red's powerful claws, feeling a spike in his own nerves as something more than his desire to be in control, his desire to possess, fluttered up. Somehow, this uncultured brute had wormed his way into Dance's metaphorical heart. He couldn't figure out when, or where, or how. It was such a gradual thing. And yet it happened so fast. Dance's jealousy and bitterness had obscured it, but as he settled, as he calmed, it was made clear just how fond, how _protective_ , Dance had become.

He pinned Red's hand back against the couch, next to his head, leaning on it for balance. "you look at me when i tell you this," he growled, pleased to see Red immediately respond by opening his sockets. Red's one eyelight was hazy, muddied and without definite shape, sparking with a lighter color Dance still couldn't make out.

Dance pressed into Red, sinking into his magic. Red's eyelight spasmed and smoked in a brilliant flash of light. Dance squeezed his hand. "you don't get to be an asshole anymore. lust might have put up with that, but i won't." Dance eased in deeper, punctuating his point. Red groaned, stuttered and sharp.

A visceral feeling of _submission_ began to seep through to Dance, which sent a victorious shiver down his spine.

"you don't get to disappear for days at a time. or sleep in the cold. or not _fucking_ talk to me." Dance thrust in a bit harder, pulling his other hand up to clutch at Red's clavicle, two fingers tangling in the fabric of the strap of his shirt (which had fallen back down to cover his chest). Red tried to bite back another whimper, but he wasn't successful. His voice sang right along with the harmony of his persistent (obedient) purring.

"if you _ever_ pull a stunt like this again? trust me, kitten, you won't like what happens next." Dance hilted inside Red, and smirked as he watched that single blazing eyelight roll into the back of Red's skull. Dance leaned in, so they were cheek to cheek, and he could whisper into Red's acoustic meatus. "capiche?"

Red's answer was a wordless mewl, his sockets fluttering shut as his teeth turned to tangle Dance in a kiss. The sheer force of the _attraction_ he was feeling nearly had Dance cross-eyed. He kissed back, taking control of it, and began to piston his hips in earnest, drinking in the musical noises Red couldn't stop making.

Red clung desperately to the back of the couch, so much so Dance could see stuffing starting to peak through holes he'd ripped into it. But the grip on Dance's hand remained gentle, careful. Waves of _protection_ and _safety_ still buffeted Dance, even as he saw, felt, Red fall apart. The implications of that, that the idea of hurting Dance was so dissonant with Red's very nature that he wouldn't do it even when he was out of his mind, had Dance careening over the edge into bliss, filling Red with his magic.

Red responded by coming right along with him, splattering them both in shades of shimmering pink.

Dance's magic dematerialized, and he slumped forward and to one side. He thought he would fall face first into the couch, but he was pulled up short. Red caught him, maneuvering Dance carefully until Red had him cradled in his lap. He was panting, shaking from exertion and magical drain, his arms trembling from the strain, but he still didn't rest. Instead he shifted until he was laying longways on the couch again, cradling Dance on top of him. Dance felt the warm pressure of something covering him, realizing a moment later that Red had draped his leather coat over him for extra warmth.

The _contentment_ and _satisfaction_ was so thick in the air Dance could taste it.

Red chuckled, low and tired, as he slipped one hand under the coat to settle on the back of Dance's neck. "fuck..."

"yeah...." Dance answered, breathless and drained himself.

Dance couldn't keep his eyes open after that, lulled into sweet oblivion by the warmth of that coat, the assurance of _refuge_ and _affection_ , and the sound of Red's purring that still had yet to cease. 

* * *

Red scratched idly at Dance's jaw with his thumb, unable to repress the smirk on his face. Finally, _finally_ , Dance was his pet. His to protect, his to care for, his to be cared for in return. He'd literally crawled into Red's lap like an ornery kitten, demanding attention his way, and now Red was holding him, safe and his.

Maybe he'd get Dance's collar with a little bell.

That was his last thought before he passed out, hoping when he woke up next it would be to both of his pets at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Me:** *looks up at the above*  
>  **Me:** i'm just tormenting myself  
>  **Me:** gdi Lust, look what you ruined, we could have skipped SO MUCH B.S. if you had just gone grocery shopping like a responsible adult instead of rushing home to cuddle with your boyfriend(s)  
>  **Me:** there is an alternate universe where you buy an apple and a magazine and stop to pick up some coffee and then come home to the aftermath of this  
>  **Me:** see what your irresponsibility has wrought  
>  **Me:** now everyone must suffer like 5 more chapters (maybe more) of SEXUAL TENSION and COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY ANGST AND MISUNDERSTANDINGS and your OTP playing gay chicken  
>  **Me:** i hope you're proud of yourself
> 
>  **Also Me:** this is fine


End file.
